Degrees of Seperation
by Volkoff
Summary: A broken warrior queen. An unlikely savior. A knight in silver armor. A global defender. Four characters seemingly unrelated, will soon learn that the lines separating foes and friends can also be the ties which bind individuals together
1. The Fated Hour

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

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**Chapter 1: The Fated Hour**

"**It can only be attributed to human error." **

_The Ruins of Tremorton, 2090_

He ran.

The pitiful thing ran as fast as its primitive cardiovascular/muscular system would allow. The wretch breathed and sweated, seemingly choking on its mortality. But nothing can run forever and so it was that the human finally collapsed from exhaustion and lay there in the ruins of its former education center.

What disgusting, illogical thing these humans are! Cybernetic enhancement of the brainstem would allow for easy downloads of all requested information, rendering their primitive school system obsolete. But, of course, these _things _are quick to argue that such a thing would deprive them of making meaningful social relationships. They would ignorantly proclaim that the conflicts and triumphs contained within the rotted husk of these edifices are necessary for healthy psychological development. Not to mention the fact that humans always believed that such necessary modifications (which they themselves gave birth to) were an affront to their sense of human pride.

Fools….the whole lot of them are nothing but evolutionary dead ends.

"Target Acquired" intoned a cold metallic voice, which was enough to make the beaten, sweaty thing, look up from the ashes. Its hair matted to its brow, its clothing shredded, its dark eyes now bright and widened from sheer terror. The creature stared at the engine of its destruction, the metal titan before him and tried to speak, as if its words still held value. "Jen…Jenny. Please." The XJ unit lowered its laser cannon, only to grip the pathetic creature before it by the throat.

A simple increase in pressure, the snapping of bone, and then all but light hum of the XJ's power core reigned in that dead ground. This place was clean again. The sweating, bleeding, defective things called Homo Sapians were dead and Tremorton was finally gloriously quiet. Oh the joy, oh the rapture! Oh the…..

"Mother?"

The small robot spoke again, its voice trembling knowing full well that his mother did not like to be disturbed when she was in mental contact with a soldier, "Mother?".

The tall robot sighed and with a great force of will, disengaged herself from the direct link with her soldier. She stood and stretched, her metal carapace-like body creaking from the time she had spent in the neural uplink chamber. She looked down with a scowl at the one who would interrupt her very important (and enjoyable task) and saw the nervous form of her latest offspring.

This didn't trouble her in the slightest. After all entire **worlds** had trembled before her power….the terrible, beautiful might of Vexus the Traveller. Even her older spawn had held a healthy amount of fear for their mother.

But even those who destroy worlds have soft spots for loyal children, and Durandal, though young, was so dear to the metal queen that she often found herself quickly shaking free of her terrible visage and nuzzling her precious child, cradling his four year old frame, whispering sweet nonsense and otherwise assuring him that his mother would welcome him always.

Much like she was now and as always she would then place her child down (after all she didn't want any of her minions think she was raising a soft robot) and ask him to "State his business".

Durandal didn't mind, father had explained that such treatment would assure that there would be fewer Coups attempted by over-emboldened drones and the less interspecies infighting, the better.

The young robot stood up straight and tried to look as dignified as he could, given the fact that he was carrying around his stuffed Silver Shell doll (a fact which always made his mother laugh inwardly—it was SO adorable!) and spoke, trying to modulate his voice for a more dramatic effect. "Hail my mother, Vexus the Traveller, may all your conquests be glorious!" Vexus cocked an eyebrow, 'it appears that **someone** has been taking his etiquette programming seriously' , she considered his greeting for a moment and finally decided that it would be wise to humor the boy, "You have spoken, and I have heard you my child, what do you wish to make known to I, the eternal queen of the Cluster?"

"I, Durandal, your first born, do wish naught but to inform my exalted mother that I have finished my Terran language studies examination and have performed with skill and ability worthy of my lineage." Vexus leaned forward, her mecha-feminine intuition making her aware of where this would soon lead. "What was the clearance mark, my good and loyal son?" rolling the words off with just a hint of a warning (lies tended to bring about harsh punishments as Durandal had learned), but the crown prince stood up straight and answered "The clearance mark was 3.1, I received a 5.0, I dedicate this victory to you, my mother". Durandal ended his statement by prostrating himself and waiting for his mother's response.

Silence filled the chamber….only to be broken by a long, slightly sinister laugh. "Skip the formalities my son, I have already heard from the examination mainframe what your score was." Vexus added a light chuckle, and shifted on her throne motioning her son to approach and take his seat….on her knee.

Quickly shuffling over to his mothers side, and with a slight (awkward) climb up her leg, the crown prince of the cluster, Durandal (and his special friend, the Silver Shell, of course) sat on the royal knee of Vexus, and with a determined look and tone spoke to his mother, "Mother, please keep your promise, tell me about what led us here. Tell me your story."

Vexus sighed, "Very well my son, this is a story of returns, of revenge, and most of all it is a story of a great rebirth, and like all great rebirths….there is at first, only death."

"**This is the story of your heritage, hear, learn, and remember………."**

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_Tremorton, Present Day_

"XJ9? XJ9? X-J-NIN-UN!"

The aged (yet commanding) voice of Nora Wakeman was like a thunderclap to her auditory system. A simple check of her nucleo-protonic powered, satellite linked, state of the art internal clock provided her with the answer as to why: it was 8:00 a.m., she was late for school.

"XJ9! Get out of bed this instant and get ready for school!" added her mother/creator. Jenny Wakeman, the savior of the world, and titan plated teenager stood and stretched, performing a rather quick systems check she unceremoniously opened her bedroom window and with the grace and force of an ICBM launching, she blasted out of her room, leaving a dense vapor trail.

But being a super powered robot heroine has its drawbacks. Along with the usual pitfalls which come with being a teenager, she also is required to deal with the frequent threats that befell Tremorton, irregardless of how inconvenient or potentially threatening it could be to her academic career.

Today's case was no different.

Just as she was close to her destination, the Skyway patrol trouble alert system halted her. "Perfect, just freaking optimal." sighed the metallic teen as her chest plate slid open revealing a large monitor. Flashing letters and numbers lit up the dark screen, "PRIORITY ALERT! CODE 56-D IN PROGRESS! PIETRO'S PIZZA PARLOR IS UNDER ATTACK BY UNKNOWN METAHUMAN THREAT! NEUTRALIZE THREAT!"

"Pizza? What kind of a villain attacks a pizza joint?" Jenny retracted the monitor and with a simple tilt of her head, her pig-tail mounted jets changed direction and soon she was flying towards the crime scene.

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"Hey Sally, what are you….." WHAM! the young red-head buckled as an expertly delivered jab knocked the air out (and some sense in) of his body. The blond yelled at the wheezing boy, "For the last time, I will NEVER, EVER, go out with you, you loser!" she punctuated this by stomping off in the opposite direction.

"Well that could have gone better." Brad Carbunkle, accidental hero, and all around adventure junkie stood up straight and mentally noted that he needed to keep better record of which girls he had been rejected by. While Sally was by far the least damaging, he dare not try again.

"Brad my dear friend, you have little to complain about."

Brad suddenly looked around the now empty hall looking for the source of the new voice. "In here" a rather nasally voice sighed seemingly coming from (of all things) a trash can.

Brad chuckled and walked to the waste bin, "Well, if it isn't Oscar the Grouch, then the only guy it must be…" Brad lifted the top slowly, revealing a rather disheveled looking, pale, freckle faced young man his same age. "Sheldon!" Brad spoke in mock surprise, "You know usually you LEAVE your garbage, after you throw it". Brad snickered at the amusing sight of his friend buried up to his neck in trash. The nerd in question was not amused. "Funny man….NOW GET ME OUT OF HERE!!" He yelled shaking his waste bin prison. "Easy Shel, I'll get you out, just hold on to your hoodie." Brad spoke calmly trying to defuse his odd companion's "geek rage".

After five minutes of struggle, Sheldon Lee, techno-genius, and undisputed king of nerds, was free of his latest humiliation. Brad looked at Jenny's self-proclaimed suitor, and quickly brushed a banana peel from his shoulder, "I take it Don Prima is in a nasty mood today?"

Sheldon shrugged, "I never seem to notice the difference". They began walking to the cafeteria together, talking about their day, when suddenly Sheldon froze. "Shel, what gives?" Brad followed his friends eyes (his love sick eyes) and soon found the source.

"Hey Jen! What kept you?"

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'Giant….mutant…..adolescent…martial arts using…..pizza obsessed….turtles' Jenny mused, 'Silicon chips, now I have seen everything'.

Jenny sighed as she entered the school (and was promptly chewed out by the principle). She missed half of her classes today, and on top of that was looking at a rather stiff detention if she was late again. This (of course) is inevitable in her line of work, but no one in Tremorton (save perhaps her mother) could understand her situation. Her glum mood however, brightened considerably when she saw her two closest friends.

Well, one friend and one pseudo-friend….or her one human-who-isnt-creeped-out-by-her/ sometimes hero and her stalker/ally…or….

'Geez, men are confusing'. She thought 'Not like…HIM'. Her mind turned to silicon mush at the thought of her secret crush. Every available resource in her hard drive turned to displaying him and every memory she had of him. His sexy chassis, that bad/good guy vibe, the way he looked at her…the Silver Shell. While she may have outwardly shaken off the Shell after the Sadie Hawkings fiasco, inwardly her hunger for him only grew. He may be a jerk, but something told her that there was more to the big,bad, 'bot than met the eye. He was mysterious, powerful, and confident (bordering on arrogance), and most importantly….

His ass…Jenny quickly learned that she was a sucker for guys with cute butts and the way he moved those hips when he walked...it made her wild. She often fantasized (i.e. planned) that if she ever saw him again she would make things right (namely, by following the Silver Shell to his lair and making him confess his true feelings for her). Once the standard exchange love and kisses had occurred, she would then grab those literal buns of steel and…..

So lost in her daydream, was our heroine that she did not realize that she had indeed grabbed someone's ass, Brad's to be precise.

"J-J-JENNNY!" yelled Brad (who was fighting down every urge to moan)

"Wha-Brad! Let her go right this instant!" yelled Sheldon (who was fighting down every urge to cry).

"Me?! She's the one clawing my butt!" Brad's verbal defense woke Jenny from her trance, and upon looking at the sight of her mighty mitts molesting her best buddy's rear. Jenny then did what any rational robot girl caught fantasizing about her metallic beau would do.

She blushed, she stammered and then she blamed the whole thing on a circuit error.

"Malfunction?" Sheldon cocked an eyebrow, "Jenny, I know almost everything about your systems, and I don't think that…"

Ding! Ding!

"Class! Go to go! Bye!" Jenny flew off to her next class (and tore through several walls enroute). 'Saved by the bell'

Brad and Sheldon looked at each other.

"Hey Shel?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it just me or did you hear Jenny whisper something about me having buns of steel?"

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_Earth's Atmosphere, Cluster Flagship 'Righteous Indignation'_

A clawed hand clicked along the metal throne. The owner of the hand knew full well the value of patience. She had waited long for this day. She had planned this campaign over many long cycles, and had sacrificed everything she held dear to get to this point.

Smytus, her General/lover died to get her to this point.

Cluster Prime, the homeworld SHE had created from naught but oil and sand was now a ruined testament to her rage.

Her first born daughter, Vega, her pride and joy, her baby….she had killed her in the name of victory.

She now had her entire race once more under her control, they feared her again (after all, one who is capable of killing her own flesh and blood in order to regain the throne is more than able to do the same to any who oppose her).

Her most loyal drones were drunk from their recent victory which placed their queen back on the throne. They were ready to drink from victory's chalice again.

Her fleet was fueled, loaded and ready for deployment.

Her trump card was ready. Vexus, lovingly ran a talon around the button which could unleash it.

But most of all….SHE was ready.

Queen Vexus was back and Tremorton was going to go up in smoke and screams!

"Your highness" bowed a command drone, "we await your divine guidance".

Vexus laughed,her voice echoing throughout the hull of her vessel and resounding through the depths of the cosmos.

Next Chapter: Heroes

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	2. Heroes

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

**------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 2: Heroes**

"**Justice is a heavy cross to bear. Those who fight for it will often find themselves crucified."**

_Tremorton, Evening_

Jenny cycled through her memories of the day in the hopes of finding something redeeming about the last six hours.

A vain struggle.

This had probably been one the worst days of her entire existence. Not even her incarceration on Cluster Prime had been **nearly** this painful. Along with the usual verbal flak she received from those gear grinding harpies (known to the rest of the school as the Krust cousins), she had been caught fantasizing about the Shell. Worse, she had been caught having an _erotic_ _fantasy _about the "Silver Stud" which resulted in her groping her best friend like some hooker-bot!

'Brad probably won't want to talk to me for awhile….maybe for a century or two!' Jenny thought as her face reddened at the memory of her hands squeezing Brad's ass. Yet, in spite of her shame, Jenny noticed something in the memory clip: something strange in Brad's face, an expression alien to her. Pain? Fear? Disgust? No, something new.

While XJ9 is the most advanced humanoid guardian robot ever designed, sometimes the complexities of human behavior needed further explanation. Jenny needed advice from a source of electronic knowledge of incredible power, a living matrix of wisdom and ideas, the very core of human consciousness and thought placed into electronic form.

She needed to access the Internet.

Of course, her mother wouldn't approve. After all, a single virus could melt her hard drive! Not to mention there were certain….things that a five year old robot (no matter how mentally close to a teenager) should know about. But Jenny was undeterred! She just had to wait.

Time is but a hiccup to an immortal machine, the strings of mortality which are ever strung by father time bind not a being like Jenny. So it was that midnight came and Jenny snuck into her mother's lab.

A fine wire rolled out of her wrist as she prepared to interface with the Master computer.

"Okay, time to get digital!"

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"Please! Don't hurt me!"

"Easy baby, we're just gonna have some fun. Right boys?"

Brit Krust backed into a corner. As she heard the cacophonous laughter of the surrounding men, Brit knew that the inevitable was going to occur.

Rape. She was going to be raped by these vile men. Oh, why did she listen to his smooth words?!

He said his name was Shateed. He said he was a friend of Don Prima from out of town. She believed him. Why shouldn't have she? He was smooth, he was handsome, he was apparently popular (what with the large posse he had brought into Mezmer's and all) and yet…..

He was going to violate her. In this dark alleyway, she was going to be defiled.

She felt him tear her expensive top, his predatory hands gripping her. "You're all ours now _Bitch._" That word broke her, she was going to be raped and no one would stop them. Tears ran down her face as Shateed's grinning mug edged closer to her face….

"**NO MEANS NO, SCUM!"**

Shateed stopped, smiled at his prey (after rubbing a revolver at her throat as a warning) and turned around with a cockiness that can only come from years of beating would-be heroes. His posse turned and spread their ranks in order to give their "leader" a good view of this latest poser.

'Big dog huh?' he thought as he eyed the massive figure at the other end of the alley. "Let me guess, you some kind a super hero huh?", the pack snickers as the figure starts trudging forward. Thonk! Thonk! Step by step the colossus draws near, soon the two white lights become visible in the dark. They are eyes without expression. These are cold eyes, mechanical eyes, eyes that seem to be more at home on the face of some specter from ancient mythology.

But this is no mythical land, this is Tremorton and this is no mythical beast, this is the Silver Shell.

Upon stepping under the sole lighting fixture in the alley (a half dead light above the Mezmer dumpster), the imposing figure spoke again in a stern voice "**LET HER GO, CREEP." **But Shateed merely turned away smiling…and then laughing maniacally as five shots erupted from his firearm, finding their mark on both on the armored hide of the Silver Shell and on the lightbulb above the would-be savior's head.

Then there was darkness. No light in the alley, no more 'white lights'. Only the sound of Shateed and his wolves laughing and Brit sobbing.

"Sorry baby, looks like you just lost your lifeline!"

Brit could make out Shateed's frame coming closer. Then she could here the faint sound of rustling fabric and metal. Finally there was the heat….the heat of Shateed's…..

"Suck it bitch!" The cold steel of the gun was pressed to her head, Brit reached out to grab his tool, when suddenly; a sound once again interrupted the proceedings.

The white lights were gone, replaced by red. The tall figure now gripped one of the thugs by the jaw—holding him five feet in the air. A whir of motors and a strangled cry later, the thug was launched into the wall next to Shateed, his body half smashed through the alley wall.

Now Shateed was scared. His boys however, were pissed. Like an old wolf pack, killing one invokes the wrath of the others. They launched themselves and in a flurry of knives, fists, trash, and one taser they tore into their prey.

Or so they tried.

Hydraulics are an incredible thing, with a simple change in gas pressure one can lift impossibly heavy objects without worry, and can leap large areas in a single bound. The Silver Shell's hydraulic system is far more complicated. Augmented by a series of strength enhancing servos, and powered by a nucleo-protonic engine, the Silver Shell's strength is above even that of giant construction robots. Lifting a building one handed is an easy feat, bending a girder is not even a trifle.

Ripping apart a gang of rapists? Why it's as easy as breathing, and more fun too!

Each step brought the Shell closer to his target, each step, was paved by the mangled bodies of the fiends that had stood in his way. 'Sinners….they must be punished'.

Suddenly, the Shell shook as electricity shocked his system. Dropping to one knee, his attacker leaped forward, "Look big man! I dropped me a 'cape'!"

Harry wasn't the smartest guy in the gang, but Shateed kept him around because every great leader needs a servile wretch to push around. So lost in his quest to hear words of praise from his 'master', Harry didn't bother to notice the look of horror on Shateed's face. So lost in his 'victory', Harry didn't bother to notice the massive form hovering over him.

Harry died miserably in that alley. The cause: death by electrocution. The source: his own weapon. The means would baffle even the dedicated coroners of the Tremorton morgue: apparently, his own taser was rammed into the back of this throat, with the safety off.

As Harry's twitching (roasted) corpse, lay smoldering, the Silver Shell approached his target. Shateed reacted in a stereotypical manner (i.e. grabbing his victim and using her as a hostage).

"I'll kill her! Get near me I'll blow her head off, dog!" Shateed warned "Don't you know who I am? I'm Shateed Daniel! My old man will fry yo ass, you can't touch me!" The Shell stopped.

"**I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. YOU ARE SON OF JUDGE DOMINIC DANIEL, A POWERFUL MAN IN LEGAL CIRCLES AND EQUALLY CORRUPT. YOU AND YOUR FATHER SHARE MANY TRAITS MR. DANIEL: YOU BOTH LAUGH AS THE INNOCENT SUFFER AND USE THE LAW TO OPPRESS THE WEAK. BUT TONIGHT THERE IS NO LAW TO PROTECT YOU, DADDY CAN'T SAVE YOU FROM ME." **

The Silver Shell approached closer…ever closer. "I'll kill her! I'll shoot he-URK!"

Shateed could say little more as the Silver Shell reached out for him (by using his Extendo arm) and gripped his hand, crushing both Shateed's gun and left hand in a single go.

Brit quickly scampered to the side of wall next to the dumpster, and gasped as the extended arm drew Shateed's frozen, exposed form to that of the Silver Shell. Brit saw the Shell raise her would be assailant high above his head, his once threatening tool of violation, now flaccid and weak before this mighty avenger. Brit had to admit she was starting to get excited. Not sexually, but a sort of malicious excitement. The kind that comes from watching criminals getting what they deserve.

"**I DON'T FEAR YOU OR YOUR FATHER. YOU WILL NEVER HARM THIS GIRL AGAIN. IN FACT, YOU WON'T TRY ANYTHING AGAIN." **The Shell eyed his prey, as a last threat escaped his lips, "I'll kill every fucking robot and take every bitch in this town!" which would have sounded more like a threat if it was said in a tone louder than the mere whimper which came from the broken scum.

"**I DOUBT THAT, MR. DANIEL." **Shateed's eyes widened as the Shell's free hand snaked forward, "**LET'S JUST SAY THAT FROM NOW ON," **and tore his package from his body, "**YOU WON'T HAVE THE **_**BALLS**_** FOR IT."**

The Silver Shell dropped the newly made eunuch on the ground, the blood and various urinal fluids making the already filthy alley, even more horrific. The blood and bile from the slain gang made Brittany sick.

However, sickness turned to fear as the red eyed behemoth now eyed her.

"Please! Don't hurt me!" she repeated for the second time that night.

But the red eyes turned to white lights of hope once more, as the hero leaned forward and spoke gently. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT, MS. KRUST?"

"I-ah….they were….oh God!" The horror of the event made her collapse in sorrow. But though she fell, arms of silver caught her. Thought he was stained with blood, and though he smelled of oil and metal (the smell of her hated nemesis, Jenny), Brit leaned into the wide chest of her savior and rested.

The Silver Shell regarded the pitiful sleeping figure in her arms, and looked at the scene of carnage around him. He looked at the now dead figure of Shateed Daniel, rapist, murderer, all around scum. He was once known as "Mr. Untouchable". Now he and his 'untouchable' friends had been touched by the hand of justice.

'Another group of sinners off the streets' he thought.

As the Silver Shell's boosters launched him and his lovely cargo, away from that scene the man within the Silver armor could almost hear the city calling to him,

"Thank you Sheldon" it said, "Don't ever leave us".

As he neared Tremorton Hospital, he whispered back,

"I NEVER WILL."

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Brad Carbunkle was not an insomniac.

Quite the opposite really, he could sleep his way through a torture session with the Spanish Inquisition. Normally this was the case. But tonight was anything but normal. Brad was conflicted.

Brad was rarely conflicted.

But there he was, laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering what came over his friends.

Sheldon was easy to figure out. The reason he stormed off after school was a textbook reaction: Jenny touches or looks at another guy and Sheldon goes bananas. But Sheldon was Brad's buddy, and he knew that Brad would never do anything to hurt the strange friendship the three shared.

Jenny on the other hand….

She had groped him, her hands kneading his ass like dough, all the while sporting this look that he had never seen before. Her eyes indicated she was in dream mode. But something about the look on her face….that sexy smile, the way her metallic tongue licked her lips as she grabbed him, the way--

'Wait a minute, did I just use 'sexy' and 'Jenny' in the same thought?' Brad mulled this development over and over in his mind. He had thought of her as pretty of course, but he had never thought of her as anything but a friend. But during the exo-skin mishap, when she appeared human, when he could see her not as a heroine who he admired or a friend in need, a third, more scintillating option appeared. Before the suit tried to take her over, before he shook himself free of those nasty thoughts, he had…Brad had….

He had wanted her. Hell, he had jerked off to the thought of her showing him just how "human" she could be. Of course, after he had finished, after he had jizzed all over his hand, after he had finished his mental tryst with Jenny, he felt so dirty that he couldn't bear to look her in the eyes for a week. At the time, he thought it was just an effect of aesthetic beauty of the suit (she was so hot, that even Don Prima sweated while talking to her), but now something in him told him otherwise.

Finally an answer struck him….or rather his little brother did (little guy had one heck of a flying tackle).

"Holy cow, Jenny was horny….she's got the urge…she can…she can….!"

"Bro?" Tuck asked as he looked as his stunned brother, "What can Jenny do with her horns? Does she even have horns? Is that something new?" The questions flew from Tuck's mouth, but Brad lay there mumbling a single fragment:

"Jenny can be….."

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"Erotic?!"

Jenny was stunned as she finally found a match for the facial expression she was looking for. She had spent all night looking, and finally the image playing in her internal view screen matched Brad's mysterious expression.

"Oh yeah! Baby, take it all!"

The words coming from the porn star did not.

Currently, Jenny sat stunned as a pornographic clip played in her mind. A red, pig-tailed woman was currently…engaging…a red haired man (who had the most horrible voice she had heard).

While Jenny knew about human sexual practices, she had never thought that they would be so close to those of more advanced robotic life forms. In fact, they were exactly the same. While she had not done anything of that sort with anyone, her fantasy life demanded that she learn advanced techniques to please a partner (just in case Don Prima came around, or in the case she ever got a hold of the Silver Shell).

But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She had massaged his ass, and grinded with him in a way that would make back-up dancer proud. She also had felt IT.

At first she thought it was just his belt, but with this new information, she looked at the situation differently.

When she wore the exo-skin, along with feeling more human, she could also tap into features that had been suppressed previously. She could desire, she could want, she could be horny.

During that time, along with numerous men ogling her, she noticed that Brad was acting strange.

She had wanted him. She had spent many nights during that time masturbating to the thought of him taking her…him and the Silver Shell, both pounding her and making her scream in ecstasy. When she had finished she felt…strange, not dirty, but strange. Maybe it was the figures who entered her marathon of fantasies (for crying out loud, one of the ones which gave her a real screaming, pleasure filled, finish involved Sheldon giving her a real "screwing" on his work bench!), or maybe it was the fact that the 'skin' was driving her insane.

At the time she could dismiss it as a 'malfunction'. But why did she still feel this way?

"XJ9! Time for school!"

At the sound of her mother's voice Jenny unplugged herself, and looked at her internal clock, "7:45 AM!"

Yes, this was going to be a rough, rough, day.

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_Earth's Atmosphere, Cluster Flagship 'Righteous Indignation'_

"Six Earth hours until The 'Omnipresent Feeling of Dread' and her ships drop out of warp, your majesty." chittered a small drone.

"The Red Mantis Squad is in place on Earth your highness" said another

"Mighty Queen! All soldiers are equipped and ready. When do we get to frag some monkeys?" asked a brash command drone

Vexus stood from her throne, "Today my soldiers, we finally end the threat of the human virus. Today the suicidal reign of humans and their oppression of our kind will be forcibly terminated. There may be a day when the courage of our kind fails….it will not be this day! There may be a day when Cluster legions face down the enemies of peace and freedom and tremble….it will not be this day! Today my warriors will be the day that Earth will be brought to judgment for the evil it has wrought across the galaxy. For contaminating my daughter, for killing our brave General Smytus, for turning our peaceful world into a battlefield….Today is their judgment day! VAE VICTUS!"

"VAE VICTUS!"

"VAE VICTUS!"

"VAE VICTUS!"

Vexus the destroyer of worlds stood basking in the glow of that beautiful battle cry which now rose from the ranks of her loyal legions. Her chiseled, ageless face soon turned its glowering eyes to the planet below.

"Judgment day has arrived."

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Next Chapter: Inevitable

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	3. Inevitable

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

**--------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 3: Inevitable **

"**Oh, but if we had met at some old inn we would have drank and wet many a napkin! But he had on a uniform as did I and so that day, did he die. Young men march to the battlefield in different uniform but manys the dreams they hold in common".**

_Tremorton Highschool, Tremorton, Morning_

A familiar scene plays out.

The characters are but two: a large boy and a small boy. The stage is a high school hallway. The dialogue is predictable.

"Mitch! Please! I did your homework l-like y-you asked!"

The large boy regards his captive with his large, malicious eyes. "Yeah? So What?"

Promptly the puny boy is slammed into a locker; the click of the combo-lock outside confirms what his heart already knows: Mitch is in a real vicious mood today. The large brute called Mitch admires his handiwork and then leaves the scene with his prize (already complete homework). The play ends with the pathetic sobbing of a nerd in a locker.

But every great play has a twist.

Mitch was what many survivors of the high school experience would refer to as a 'tank'. He was little more than sheer muscle, solid bone, and one extremely overactive pituitary gland. This, of course, means that little can stand in his ways once he has decided on a direction.

But someone did impede his path. Someone who should know better than to get in his way.

"Let him out." Sheldon said in a whisper.

Mitch looked down and soon brought Sheldon up to eye level, lifting him by the front of his hoody. "Loser, you did NOT just say what I think you said." Mitch warned

Sheldon's nervous eyes soon became confident, a smirk spreading across his face. "Let him out of the locker, Mitch".

Anger.

Mitch had bullied 'Loser Lee' since kindergarten. It was survival of the fittest, and Sheldon wasn't exactly the top rung on the social ladder. But then one fateful day in shop….**she **appeared. That freaky robo-chick, Jenny Wakeman. She had….she'd…..

She beat Mitch. She humiliated him. She didn't even bother taking him seriously. A girl had handed Mitch his ass. The worst part: this little shit stain practically had her on speed dial. She would protect him.

'No, not this time she won't' Mitch wouldn't let him get away with this! Nerds don't deserve any respect! Might makes right! His large size and strength would see him through. He winded back for a devastating haymaker and swung….

Only to have his fist stopped two painful inches from the zit covered, sweating, geeky mug of Sheldon Oswald Lee.

"Put him down, unless you want to answer to me, chump."

Sheldon's ears rang at the sound of her melodious voice, like a choir of angels backed up by a synthesizer. Her gorgeous face, her seemingly delicate arms, those eyes (oh those, wonderful optic units!), those long, jet powered, hydraulically supported legs, she was perfection. She was Jenny Wakeman, his savior, his angel, his metal goddess and she was going to kick some serious ass.

---------------------------------------------------------

Jenny sighed as she stopped bully #1356 from pummeling Sheldon into nerd-nuggets. She really didn't want to see Sheldon hurt (except when he deserved a stern beating), and especially not by a morally bankrupt monster like Mitch. The good thing about Mitch was that no one really cared what happened to him (poor ugly bastard). This was good for Jenny because she could avoid the flak (courtesy of the Krusts and their clique) which came from helping her stalker.

The last thing she needed was people thinking she actually liked this freak…..well, she didn't dislike him entirely. It was just that, well, she didn't want to be brought down to his level. 'His level? You once thought about him fu--' she stopped that thought COLD.

Mitch released Sheldon, and tore locker door from its hinges in a last vain show of force (which was barely even noted by Jenny) freeing his hostage, and then turning he faced his robotic tormentor, "This ain't over yet, scrap-heap I'll—"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it a thousand times before from guys tougher than you. Buzz off before I send you into orbit."

Mitch tensed and then suddenly….he left clutching his ear, running towards the bathroom.

"Thanks Jen, cool new weapon by the way" Sheldon's voice betraying a slight hint of the amorous devotion that he always showered her with.

"What?"

"You know, that thing that made Mitch run to the bathroom."

"Sheldon, I didn't **do **anything. " Upon making that last statement (and flashing another of her patented 'Sheldon, you are such a weirdo' looks) his way she left for her next class.

The formally imprisoned nerd clasped Sheldon on the shoulder; "Women are mysterious creatures, good sir knight". He quickly gathered his books (and his cloak and wizard hat) and left. Sheldon was alone.

"Jenny….why can't you see me for who I really am?" Sheldon whispered to no one in particular.

Nothing but the silence answered him.

-----------------------------------------------

Mitch ran to the bathroom.

Empty. Empty is good.

Locking the door and checking around for anyone in the stalls, Mitch begins twitching.

A sound like insects chittering rose from his body and soon an audible zipping sound is heard as Mitch's flesh falls down to the floor in a heap.

If this were a horror movie, one would think the schoolyard bully had been murdered by some horrific beast. But nothing could be farther from the truth.

Mitch Scapperton wasn't dead; he was free, free from wearing this ridiculous disguise, free from this awful charade of being a low-level school punk. He was free from the 'Mitch' costume and persona that threatened to strangle him.

He was once again RM-5, the communications expert of the Cluster's elite deep insertion commando squad, codename: Red Mantis.

"RM-5, thisss isss RM-1, do you copy hisss?"

"RM-5 here, ssssorry for the delay hissss I ran into ssssome trouble with 'Blue Devil' hisss".

"Does ssshe or her human controllersss ssssuspect anything hisss?"

"Negative. I take it that the time has finally come hisss?"

"Affirmitive, RM-5. Asssume your position for Operation: Judgement Day. Proceed with Phase 1 hisss"

RM-5, removed the rest of the human infiltration stealth suit (better known as the H.I.S.S ,which along with the speech patterns which are associated with his model are the reasons why his squad was often called the "hissing death"), and placed it into his thorax cavity. He finally stood free of his sixteen year "performance", there he stood, a mighty commando, a great seven foot tall red metal covered praying mantis. He flexed his hand blades, a quick swipe and all four stalls were sliced open. His mandibles flexing in the Cluster-equivalent of a smile, he then set about his task. Taking a small cylinder from his thorax, he began to set up a beacon.

A drop ship landing beacon to be precise.

'Yessss, the time hasss come filthy apessss hisss. You and your blue sssavior will tassste the wrath of the Clussster hisss!'

_--------------------------------------------------_

_Prima Corporation Nuclear Power Plant, Tremorton City Limits, Morning_

Another scene plays out.

An angry man yells at his employee.

"No more slacking from of you! Get this plant back to optimal levels or you're FIRED!"

"Yes, Mr. Prima. I will deal with the problem presently."

The nuclear engineer left the office of Raphael Prima with more pride and bounce than one who had just been yelled at by the richest man in Tremorton. Of course, many of this engineer's co-workers would often say that there was something odd about him…his wife and son…his two brother's who lived with them….let's face it his whole family seemed bizarre.

But Devilin Scapperton didn't care what these peons…these **monkeys** thought of him.

As he entered his private office, locked the door, and set the camera routines to a pre-recorded image, he underwent a strange transformation.

Another H.I.S.S. was removed this day, and it belonged to none other than RM-1, squad leader of the Cluster's most elite commando unit, he was ready, he was willing, he….

He had to make a few calls.

RM-1 chuckled as he activated his com-link….

_---------------------------------------------_

_Freeman's Internet Café ,Tremorton Mall, Morning_

"Closed?! How could they be closed?!"

"Easy Travis, we'll just go to another…."

"I need my morning internet fix and they're closed!"

Internet addiction is a sad thing. Behold exhibit A.) Travis Small (age 32), programmer, basement dweller and perennial loser and his friend and only life line, Jarvis.

"You know you should really talk to your folks about at least getting dial-up….."

What the two outsiders fail to realize is that within the confines of the internet café, a scene of flesh numbing horror awaits.

The bodies of G. Freeman and his assistant B. Blaskowitz, lay sliced and mangled beyond recognition. Their deaths were quick, their twin assailants thought highly of them.

Well, as highly as Cluster agents commissioned with a sixteen year mission to observe, infiltrate and destroy a race of hated enemies could muster, anyway.

RM-3 and RM-4 (formally Jake and Blake Scapperton) were busy carrying out their orders.

"Are you both ready hiss?"

RM-3 and RM-4 answered in unison "Affirmitive. sssssSHODON virus is active. Human communication and computer ssssssystems will ssssshut down ssssooon hisss".

"Very well, hold your positionssss until you hear otherwise hisss. RM-1 out".

The two brothers looked at each other, and clashed hand blades together in a symbol of unity in the face of war.

"For Vexus." stated RM-3

"For Vexus." answered RM-4

"VAE VICTUS! hisss" they exclaimed in unison, as single glowing monitor being the sole witness to their pledge.

_--------------------------------------------------_

_Scapperton Residence, Tremorton, Morning_

Majorie Scapperton hung her clothes up neatly, underwear, pants, shirts, and of course, her H.I.S.S suit. RM-2 had to admit, that while impersonating a human female was disgusting to her in ways she thought impossible, it was nice to be able to have an excuse to have some 'alone time' with her mate. She sighed as she wondered if he would ever come around and agree to marry her. No more war, no more battles, just him, her and a small family (300 children was a good start).

Male Mantis drones had such a problem with commitment. It wasn't like she was going to rip his head off!

But such thoughts had to wait. He had called her. She already knew what she had to do.

"RM-2, isss the Quantum Bomb ready yet?hisss"

"Patience sweet claws, my big boomer will be ready sssssoon. hisss"

"D-d-don't call me that during a mission! HISSSSS!"

She giggled, she knew he was blushing madly on the other end of the com.

"J-j-just do what you have to do! hisss RM-1 out!"

"Ah males….without us they would be so lost." RM-2 thought happily as she hummed an old cluster tune as she continued wiring her personal doomsday device.

---------------------------------------------------------

RM-1 deactivated his com-link and slumped into his chair. The female had done it to him again! Why did she have to be in his squad? Why did she have to flirt with him so often in front of the rest of the team? Why did…why was he so willing to leave everything and run off with her?

RM-2 was a competent soldier; she was also attractive, intelligent and most importantly, she was willing to take the lead in any role, so it was no surprise that she was willing to lead them both towards their next great mission: matrimony.

RM-1 looked at the inaccurate, inefficient, human clock above him. He thought of his enemy. Of the threat this race of ravenous baboons posed to the future of Vexus, the cluster, and his…their future.

'Yesss, when it'sss all over, when we complete thissss one, last misssssion, RM-2. I will take you away from all thissss. We can be together, my dear mate.'

As RM-1 finished this thought he set about his own important task.

-------------------------------------------------------------

_Earth's Atmosphere, Cluster Invasion Fleet, Battle Carrier 'Omnipresent Feeling of Dread', Drop ship 1984-B_

A single (incredibly small) command drone finished describing the scenario to his troops. Sergeant first class Kilroy (known by his self-styled nickname of 'Killgore' at one point), had a certain confidence that few in the Cluster had ever seen (especially in such a diminutive robot.

A confidence which can only come from facing off against the mighty XJ-9 and returning to tell the tale.

It had taken him awhile, but he had finally become a command drone, and had a platoon of his own to show for it. They had performed so well during the battle of Cluster Prime that his unit, the 'Big Red 145', had been given the 'honor' of being on board the first drop ship sent into the battle zone: right in the heart of Tremorton.

It was a suicide mission, he knew, but then again they had gained their reputation by entering such difficult situations, and surviving. That and the fact that they were the most unruly bunch of grunts in the entire swarm.

"Any questions before we make those monkeys SURRENDER?!"

"I got a question, Sarge: how do I get out of this chicken shit outfit?" HCKS-39, recon specialist, ace marksman, and also uncontested troop clown. He made them laugh.

"Stow it, private!" Sgt. Killroy was not amused.

"Sir, is this another monkey hunt, or are we going to really go fragtastic on the Earth?"

"Drones and Dronettes, this is going to be the single most brutal battle you will ever see. The humans are sly, sneaky, and really, REALLY, hard on the optics. You better believe that this will be the single hardest battle this unit has ever seen." Killroy looked at his troops, they were ready, the laughing had stopped, and it was time to get mean.

A red light and blaring claxons sounded. Soon a voice crackled on the intercom.

"Infantry unit 145, get into positions. Initiating drop sequence. Victory be with you."

The soldiers knew the drill. Weapons were taken off safety mode, magnet grips were latched on to.

As Sgt. Kilroy took his position (in front of the drop ship doors) and grabbed hold of his own special magnet grip (built low to the ground, just for his stature), he turned and regarded the soldier next to him. He was trembling.

"What's your malfunction, private?!"

Private third class RYN-36 looked down at his commanding officer, his optics almost welling up with tears, and confessed, "I-I'm scared Sarge."

Killroy's eyes softened and he turned and spoke just loud enough for the young soldier to hear "We're all scared son."

--------------------------------------------------------

_Tremorton Highschool, Tremorton, Noon_

Jenny, Brad, and Sheldon sat together in the Cafeteria. Jenny avoided Sheldon's amorous gazes, Brad served as the middleman in this strange affair. That was usual.

The oppressive silence between Jenny and Brad, now that was weird. So strange that Sheldon stopped ogling Jenny, and surprised Brad by grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him out of the Cafeteria. 'Geez, Sheldon can be pretty strong when he wants to be.' thought a very distracted Brad Carbunkle.

Jenny, now alone, sighed and once again, weighed her options: She liked Brad. She thought he was nice, and he had saved her butt on countless occasions before. The new development there was the fact that she now also saw him as 'sexy', a thought which brought to mind another figure in her life, HIM.

The Silver Shell was getting harder and harder to find. Not to mention there were rumors going around that he was getting…hardcore. She didn't want to believe the stories, but their were increasing amounts of stories involving the Silver Shell hunting down and killing human criminals.

The first rule of Robotics: "A robot cannot harm a human or by proxy, allow a human to come to harm".

But then again she herself had thrashed her fair share of humans thugs (and occasionally Sheldon), so what's to say that a robot can't 'evolve past' such an archaic rule? Sometimes lethal force can be necessary, and she did notice that crime rates are going down.

Besides that whole 'anti-hero' vibe was REALLY hot.

'Oh screw my rotator with a magnet! Why can't I just give up on 'Robo-Jerk' and admit to Brad that I….'

Jenny was unable to finish her thought

--------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

Sheldon stood in front of Brad, his best friend, his comrade, and asked a simple question.

"What's wrong?"

What came out of Brad's mouth… now **that** was complicated.

"I love Jenny."

Really complicated

Sheldon's jaw dropped, he had prepared for this day, he **knew **that one day his "best pal" would stab him in the friggin back…..and impale his heart. But it still hurt.

Sheldon Lee, knew about betrayal. He knew what it felt like to have those you love turn on you. His parents…they called it a _Lassiz Faire _method of child rearing.

He called it abandonment in French.

He had spent everyday since fifth grade alone. Every report card, every waiver, everything that bore their signature…was a forgery. Sheldon hated pity, so he had successfully created the illusion that he came from a normal family (down to using a voice modulator to simulate their voices on phone calls) and that he was just some run of the mill geek. Every cent he earned went to his own survival. They gave him nothing. He had spent that life sustaining money on food, utilities and little else. That is until, SHE appeared. He gave up so many things in his quest to prove his devotion to her, to protect her, to make her dreams come true…..only to have her throw it back in his face. Even when he had begun that policy of pocketing the ill-gotten gains of those _sinners_ he killed, he would set it aside and use that "blood money" only to try to make right what those _monsters _ruined. Families, ophans, the innocents they harmed, were all tracked down and helped by an unseen hero.

But a true hero does his duty without thanks. It is, 'after all, the right thing to do'.

He had first created the Silver Shell integrated powered armor in order to do the exact opposite. He had acted selfishly. He had used it to gain friends, to gain love. He paid for that mistake. He realized that he already had wonderful new people in his life. Tuck was like the little brother he never had. Dr. Wakeman was his mother-figure. Brad was the best male companion he could have ever asked for. Then Jenny….she had shown him that he could love again.

No! She had taught him how to love. He had been overly obsessive at first. But he had learned! He had eased up on his stalking behavior, and he had tried to reign in his wild passionate feelings for the 'metal angel'. The culmination of this change was his more...'socially conscious' use of his creation. The Silver Shell would now fight for others, as opposed to fighting for himself. He had to admit: it felt good. Not to mention the satisfaction of bringing fear and death down on the fiends which torment the innocent was absolutely refreshing.

But even as he changed, his old scars remain, reminding him of the pain of abandonment. He had prayed every night that these strange new friends would be different. He prayed that they would stay just as they are forever.

Yet, here was his dear, sweet, loyal Brad destroying his world with three words.

"Sheldon?" Brad looked at his friend, his eyes hinting at the mental struggle taking place inside him. Sheldon stood up straight and looked Brad in the eyes. This was it. No turning back now!

"Brad Carbunkle, my friend, I have lied to you both for a long time."

"Sheldon…if it's that whole 'spy thing', I think Jenny is over it by now."

"No, Brad. I am….I am the…..I am The Silv---"

Sheldon was unable to finish his confession.

----------------------------------------------------------

The Lights went out.

The Computers went dead.

Then, fire fell from the sky.

The explosion rocked the entire school and when the dust cleared the students in Tremorton High School could hear a single small (but commanding voice) yell out

"Troops of the Cluster! Attack! VAE VICTUS!"

-----------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Maelstrom

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	4. Maelstrom

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_-----------------------------------------_

**Chapter 4: Maelstrom**

"**I know now why you cry, but it is something I can never do."**

_The Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Noon_

The Educators Security Manual (21st edition), created during the American Conference on School Security in 2055 A.D. chapter 7, section II, paragraph 4 states the following:

"In the event of an incident involving the purposeful discharge of weaponry within the confines of the institution (i.e. a shooting rampage), all faculty, staff, and students should calmly proceed to the set of emergency exits farthest from the assailant. Upon reaching safety, a staff member should alert Skyway patrol headquarters in order to defuse the situation."

The manual was obviously written by people that had never known the terror of suddenly finding yourself in a battlefield.

This thought went through the heads of several teachers and students, shortly before a series of bursts from the Cluster Drones' neutron rifles silenced their thoughts forever. The drones quickly swept the area. Quite a few students escaped. Many more however, were trapped in the kill zone.

Kilroy noted the irony of situation: more humans were killed by being trampled by their own kind in the panicked exodus, then by his comrades and their weapons. His face filled with disgust, 'Such selfish animals, these humans, so willing to destroy each other for the sake of the individual ego'. But then again he had known many of his own kind who done the same, who still were doing the exact same thing which made his steel bowels turn.

"Sir! The 31st and 455th assault divisions have landed and are requesting joining our charge!" stated an obviously excited Drone. Kilroy looked up at his subordinate and nodded, "Tell 'em to lock and load, we are to clear the LZ of all targets and proceed with our march on to Northern Tremorton. We will then engage and destroy their government center, the base of operations for their 'Skyway Patrol', and their…hospital." , Kilroy grimaced at the last target: was it really necessary to sink to their level?

Suddenly a hand gripped the wind-up key on his back weakly. A broken and bloody human female with black pigtails and a series of piercing on her ears looked at him with all the determination that a being facing certain death could muster.

"NO!" She cried weakly.

Kilroy sighed sadly as he leveled his neutron rifle to her face. "Surrender?" he asked in a softer version of what was practically his signature phrase. She nodded in the negative, her strength too gone to even speak.

"Such heroic nonsense…."

After those words left his mouth, the next sound was but a single blast from a cluster rifle, then silence.

--------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

The bloodied hoodie lay torn in his hands, the school he had attended with his friends lay gutted and charred.

_Friends _

Sheldon, his best friend, was no where to be seen, all that he found when he awoke from underneath the rubble was this tattered article of clothing.

Jenny, the robo...the woman that he realized only minutes earlier that he loved was missing, possibly even hurt or worse.

To top that off, countless other friends were injured and dying. The Cluster was all over the city by now, meaning more would die. His family

'Oh God…..Mom! Dad!Tuck!'

His loved ones were all going to die and here he was lying on the ground sobbing with a damn piece of bloody fabric in his hands! He had always dreamed of adventure. He had always envied the daring-do and action that Jenny called her everyday routine. He had always wanted some action.

Now he got his wish. The Cluster was here, the world needed saving, and his friends needed to be avenged.

"Aww, little monkey fall down and go boom?" taunted a lone Cluster Drone as he pointed his weapon at him. "Don't worry ape, I'll make it all better…."

Brad Carbunkle was angry, a point which he illustrated when he slammed a steel pipe into the Drone. Once. Twice. Three. Four. He lost count of how many times he struck the machine.

Eventually, the robotic bug stopped moving. His head was now just a large, oily, dent.

Brad removed his bloody, oil-covered shirt, and wrapped it around his head as a makeshift bandana (to cover a nasty gash his forehead had received). He then took the sidearm of the fallen Drone, a laser pistol, the only Cluster weapon he knew how to use, and began sneaking down the burned out halls.

The Cluster was in for a fight

--------------------------------.

_Tremorton, Afternoon_

Running away was a skill that Sheldon had mastered (much to his shame). He had escaped countless bullies, beatings, and other troubles by simply putting his lanky, clumsy legs to good use.

Sure, he fell on his face, half the time, but he did reduce the overall amount of pain he endured on a daily basis because of it. But now he wasn't running away from conflict. No, he was charging headlong into the biggest brawl of his life.

His mind focused on one thing: his "Good Skin".

Yes, the silver flesh to cover his weakness, the powered servos and actuators to grant him strength, the voice modulator/amplifier to give his meek voice the booming command of a wrathful god. Sheldon Lee, the timid teenager could not save the city alone. But the Silver Shell could. The Shell could rescue his embattled city. The Shell could save the innocents trapped within. The Shell could save those strange, wondrous, precious people, his dear friends, who gave Sheldon Lee the reason to stand tall. Most he could save her….Jenny, his savior, his love. She had saved him from the _sinners_, she had saved him from himself. Now it was his turn to save her from the greatest _sinners _of all: The Cluster.

Yes…he would punish them for all the lives they destroyed. He would make them all suffer. Especially HER, she needed to be punished the most. The hardware-laden harlot of Babylon, the metal Lilith, the queen of lies and misery, she was his greatest tormentor.

'Vexus…..'

The very thought of her made his mind twist and burn. She had committed so many crimes...no, so many _sins_ over the course of her long lifespan that her very presence tainted whatever she touched. She first tried to kill his noble mentor, Dr. Wakeman and countless other innocents before he was born. She then set about her mad campaign to taint and corrupt Jenny, his angel. She tried to destroy her, to control her, to mutilate her body and soul until she was as twisted as the dread queen of the Cluster herself. But her worst crime struck close to home.

She had taken his innocence. She used him. The worst part is that he willingly gave in to Vexus's seductive ways. She called herself QT-2 (one of her many disguises). She seduced him. She gained his trust by appealing to his ego. She gained his heart by appealing to his libido. He did not know where she learned to seduce with such skill, how she knew just the right words and motions to control him. But she did so and performed so well that she slithered her way into his inner sanctum…only to steal a most precious treasure: the XJ9 schematics.

She had laughed at his broken heart. She laughed as the tears of realization stung his face: she had led him astray. She had made him betray the love of his life. She had made him unfaithful to the one whom he had professed undying love for. Worse than all that was the fact that the taint remained. Sheldon still had a spot in his heart dedicated to the feelings he had for Vexus, not love, not affection, something more primal: desire. It made him feel dirty. Even when Jenny angrily beat him to the ground (schematics are to a robot, what a nude medical photograph is to a human, both are very private matters), he begged for more. Jenny was understandably disgusted, even more so when he begged her to end his life. Anything to end the perpetual agony caused by his disgrace. Anything to gain atonement for his great offense. He had served his penance (he was not permitted to even look at Jenny for a whole month), and earned his forgiveness (Jenny had calmed down and saw that he was sincere in his apology). But his soul would not know peace until this grave wrong was rectified.

Vexus needed to die. The Cluster needed to be exterminated. The Silver Shell would savor her fear and Sheldon Lee could finally be free of his own suffering.

_----------------------------------------------------_

_The Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Afternoon_

RYN-36 was feeling high, higher than a Cluster hydrogen glider.

Maybe it was the Adren-Synthetic additive he had bought from a dealer while he was on Cluster Prime (and promptly injected into his fuel supply before the drop). Maybe it was the fact that his first combat drop went so well.

But mostly it was the fact that he had fragged an entire Skyway patrol unit by himself.

These weren't the unarmed civilians he fired at on a nervous impulse. These guys were the top-shelf, the big apes, members of a sophisticated battalion of armed and armored warriors which had stymied the Cluster before. But here was an entire unit of ten human soldiers wiped out in a single blind blitz of rage. The best part is that a command unit saw the whole thing and was congratulating him.

"Excellent work grunt! I'm sure Sgt. Kilroy will be pleased to know that he has a real fighter in his ranks!"

RYN-36 remained at attention (despite a desire to emit a victory screech) "Sir! This unit only wishes to perform its duty to the optimum level, sir!" The Command Drone, PTN-01, smiled, saluted the young soldier, and added, "Keep this up grunt, and you might even be nominated for the S.W.A.R.M!" before returning to his own company.RYN-36 remained at attention, like a patriotic statue dedicated to soldierly grace.

Until he was alone of course, then he let out a screech that shattered the (formally) intact window outside what was originally the principles office.

'S.W.A.R.M ?!', his legs turned to monofluid at the thought. The dream of every young soldier drone was to be given the honor of becoming a member of the few, the proud, the Special Weapons and Reconissence Mechanaloids. The presence of male S.W.A.R.M members could drive females into a frenzy, and could make even the most brash drones bow their heads. They were the stuff of legends, and now his dream of joining their hallowed ranks, the dream which he thought was unattainable was within his grasp! All he had to do was keep fighting and surviving. He thought how proud his mother unit would be, his siblings, and even Srgt. Kilroy! He couldn't wait to tell them all! He started heading back and caught sight of HCKS-39 in the distance.

"HCKS! Look! I wiped out a Skyway patrol unit single-handed! The commander of the 31st saw the whole thing and says I might even make it into S.W.A.R.M!"

HCKS-39 tried to silence him. He tried to warn him. He tried but….

"HCKS? What in the name of Prime is wrong with you? What do you mean 'she's here?'

Who are you…." RYN-36 noticed the shadow over him. A pigtailed shadow.

He turned slowly, ever so slowly until he was face to belly button with the one Earth creature that no drone could face. Trembling, he looked up, past the pale midsection, past the blue armor top, past the lips which were now curled into a feral grimace, to a pair of small red pinpoints in the center of two large white pools that would normally be the pretty eyes of a cute robotic teenager. RYN-36 had seen the scouting images of 'blue devil' and he always thought that she looked rather nice. He always thought that should they meet, he would use Cluster rhetoric and kind words to sway her to their side.

Words failed him. His voice was shot. She had destroyed millions of drones before when she was upset. Now she was furious. Suddenly HCKS-39's warning made sense: XJ9 was designed to protect human interests and lives, RYN-36 had just admitted (proudly at that) that he had just killed numerous humans and she had heard him. She had heard his confession. She had judged him guilty. Now she was going to kill him.

RYN-36 suddenly came to his senses and unleashed a torrent of neutron energy right into the chest of the deadly beauty. Of course, what he failed to note was that neutron blasts were designed to kill creatures with carbon based cells. When the rifle's battery failed, and the XJ9 stood unharmed, this fact became clear to him.

She grabbed him and pulled him close. She whispered into his right auditory unit, one simple word, "cry". Then she began tearing all six of his arms off. He dropped to the ground yelling, crying, and of course, gushing fluid from his stumps. She then took his squirming legs and commanded loudly, "scream!" and tore his legs from his body with a single, mighty tug. RYN-36, was losing consciousness, he could feel his system failing, he looked up and saw her gently place her right metallic boot on his abdomen. Private third class RYN-36 heard one last thing that day. One last word, her voice screamed into his dying CPU, "die!".

Her foot went up, and slammed down. Only an oily, messy spot, and a shattered rifle served to mark where he fell

---------------------------------------.

_Tremorton, Wakeman Residence, Afternoon_

"Elderly human! This is your final warning! Come out of your domicile with your hands raised and you will not suffer!"

CLYTN-37 sighed for the seventh time since they started this small siege. He and his small detachment were ordered by Sgt. PTN-01 to secure one of the local ape's homes in order to convert it to a forward command post. Energy readings suggested that this small hovel would be an ideal position to set up the communications uplink. All that stood in their way was a old human female…and her odd ability to fortify her position. She was good, no question about it. Armored doors with ray shield coating, windows shielded by solid lead shutters, and no other way in (the underground perimeter of the house was fortified by dura-steel barriers, making an underground insertion impossible).

"She is going to die eventually, these things don't age well, after all." noted one drone

"Let's just go down the smoke exhaust unit." Stated another, indicating the chimney stack.

"What if she's armed?! She'll pick us off one by one!" exclaimed a skittish drone

"Oh please, what's the worst some old, dried up, chimpanzo can do?" groaned CLYTN-37

"Actually it's the term is 'chimpanzee', and I think a tactical explosive or two on the roof would offer the best insertion point." Mentioned a female drone.

"Hey good idea!"

"That's great!"

"You know something, you are one smart fema…..wait a second, we don't HAVE any female drones in the 31st !"

CLYTON-37 and company turned……and looked right into the bespectacled eyes of one, Dr. Noreen C. Wakeman, and her waist mounted, cryogenically cooled, 10 cylinder, plasma gattling cannon. Gripping the control handle and placing her thumb on the trigger, her wrinkled visage broke into a wide smile.

"Who's dried up?"

------------------------------------------

_Skies of Tremorton, Cluster Flagship 'Righteous Indignation'_

It was going perfectly.

Vexus sat on her throne, absolutely numb with joy. Tremorton would soon fall. Revenge would be hers at last. These pitiful, sweating, bleeding, breathing things called "humans" would soon all be dead. Their crimes against her…against the man she loved…against her daughter…against all robots would soon be avenged.

Ah yes, victory was sweet. 'I wonder what I should wear for the victory gala? Maybe my red armor…hmmm?' Vexus gave a satisfied hum as she thought of the party to come. A drone's cry broke her from her trance.

"Infantry division 145 reporting severe losses! Hostile appears to be lone human with stolen weapondry!"

"Human?! Weapons stolen from where?" Vexus asked as irritation spread through her emotion grid. "Your highness…it would appear…what I mean is…it is kind of like…." Vexus sank her claws into the communication drone's back, "FROM WHERE?!".

"F-F-F-from fallen drones, your grace! He is using own weapons!"

Another drone interrupted, "the 31st is almost wiped out, they are….Smytus's ghost! PTN-01 is down! I repeat Command unit PTN-01 is non-functional!"

Vexus fumed, "Is it the Skyway Patrol?", her old enemies did always manage to get under her carapace. But the response from the drone was worse than she could imagine.

"Negative, the Skyway Patrol units are still trying to defend their headquarters. Lone heavily armed human female….identity confirmed! It's…it's…." the drone dropped his com-link, "Wakeman….Nora Wakeman…..". The drone reported little else as his queen tossed him aside (and through a wall) in order to look upon the face of her oldest nemesis.

"You….." Vexus had already been humiliated countless times by this human, the latest and worst occurred on her own home turf. Nora Wakeman was responsible for the loss of Cluster Prime…and the counter-revolution which took her daughter's life. She had to die today.

"Y-y-your majesty! Situation in sector 13-G!" screamed another nervous drone

"Report!"

"Supply divisions FD1 through FD9 are completely destroyed! The 455th is unable to investigate due to a continued battle with Skyway Patrol and European Enforcer forces!"

Vexus fumed at the news but then sat on her throne with surprising calm, 'Hmm, nosey pests, these so-called "continentals". I'll have to raze their cities all sooner than I thought. So much for seeing the Barcelona Soccer Stadium.'

"Drone! Send the Red Mantis squad to sector 13-G, tell them to investigate the disturbance, and remove the problem."

----------------------------------------

_Tremorton, Late Afternoon_

"RM-1 here hisss, ssssquad report."

"RM-3 and RM-4 reporting hisss. Found the wreckage of the resssupply vehiclesss. No sssurvivorsss hisss."

"RM-5 on the sssscene, RM-1 hisss. No foreign sssscorch marks. Either nine divisionsss were wiped out by friendly fire or we've got a rogue weaponsss situation. Maybe a monkey with a ssstolen Clussster lassser cannon hisss."

"RM-2 presssent and accounted for, and I hate to poke your logic RM-5, but no human is this accurate with our weapons hisss. Besssidesss, look at the bodiessss….thisss was done by a melee weapon hisss. Most likely sssomething really crude, wielded by an unnaturally sssstrong killer hisss."

RM-1 was cold and callous on the battlefield. But even he had to admit that RM-2's theory was scarier than guard duty on Cluster 7 (the whole planet was a giant blast furnace, essentially a massive weapons manufacturing facility, all automated. Defense detail was carried out by drones however, and the heat/explosion related fatalities were the stuff of nightmares). RM-1 spoke into his com-link, asking the question that floated through all his squad mate's minds.

"RM-5 hisss, you've ssseen her at work, do think it wasss….."

"Negative hisss." RM-5 stopped his commander from completing his sentence, "sssShe would have deployed her heavy armamentssss against these hard targetsss hisss. sssShe's disciplined, this wasss done by ssssomething out of control….angry hisss."

RM-1 looked at the edifice before him, "ssssSquad rally to point 13-F. Let'sss not get caught in the open."

---------------------------------------

_Ruins of Mezmer's Place, Tremorton, Late Afternoon_

RM-3 and RM-4 looked at each other. They were expert scouts, and skilled computer technicians, they could hunt down and eliminate any target whether it be electronic or physical in nature. They were the 'twin blades' of the unit, unmatched experts of the dual execution, masters of the team hunt. The first rule a hunter learns is to be aware of ones environment. Something was wrong; there were strange vibrations in the air, a feeling of predator gazing upon unaware prey.

They were being hunted.

They unsheathed their hand blades, the powerful implements folding out of their wrist joints and locking into place for maximum carnage.

-------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

The large Mantises knew he was watching them. Good. He wanted them to put up a fight like the others….it wouldn't be 'heroic' to attack them completely by surprise. But they were going down either way.

The Silver creature crouched into position, and then with a mighty leap, he flew towards his prey.

--------------------------------------------

_Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Tremorton, Late Afternoon_

Another shot was fired. Another laser bolt found its mark on a drone's head.

The shooter ducked behind a burned out, fallen support pillar as another return salvo of neutron blasts came his way.

"Ha, you like that?! That was LEFT handed!" He shouted

"Human when I get my pincers on you, you won't even have a left STUMP!"

If one were a betting man (or woman), one would bet dollars to daffodils that Sgt. Kilroy was angry.

"When hell freezes over, shorty. Yippie-ky-yay!" as more shots come from the fallen pillar.

One would win that bet. Hands down.

"With your little 'girlfriend' out of the way, you will have no choice but to….SURRENDER!" Kilroy followed this shout with more blasts.

"Jenny…? Jenny's….."

"Don't be blue, red! She died as she lived….a dumb, human slave!" screamed a drone.

"Jenny…."

"The boys in the 31st fried her circuits!" yelled another

"You…."

"She screamed like a….."

"Shut….."

"What's wrong? Little feelings hurt? Aww, poor monkey….."

"Shut UP! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Brad Carbunkle lept from his hiding place, two laser pistols (and one grenade) in hand. 'Jenny, I'll be with you soon….but first, these guys are gonna pay.'

-----------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

'We're dead, man! It's over man! Game over man! Game over!'

HCKS-39 ran as far, as fast, as he could. He had thrown away his rifle, his sidearm, his armor, his pack. He was practically running naked through the battle zone. He was fast.

Not fast enough.

The blast tore off the lower half of his body. He lay there as his assailant came into view.

"You…" he whispered.

"Shh…" the woman whispered, "Just close your eyes and it will all be over soon."

"X….J….9"

"Jenny? Happened to her? If you have even hurt a metal follicle on her head I swear by whatever cold, dead, deity you insects worship that I'll rip out your…."

The unit pointed…and then his energy expended, HCKS-39 shut down for good. His eyes forever frozen in terror, his mandibles wide as if to scream one last time.

Dr. Wakeman followed his hand…and dropped her weapon at the sight.

"J-j-jenny? Dear heaven….."

-------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Thanatos

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	5. Thanatos

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

**----------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 5: Thanatos**

"**Hell can be paradise….if one becomes the devil himself"**

_Ruins of Mezmer's Place, Tremorton, Late Afternoon_

The silver flash flew towards his prey, mighty gauntlets of steel outstretched, jet boosters flaring. At his current speed he knew that they would not escape. He knew that he would crush at least one of them in just the opening strike. A proverbial 'sword of Damocles': slicing down from the heavens with such grace and lethality that a foe might even shed a tear before being driven headlong into oblivion.

But the target was not moved.

The silver knight flew, he struck, but nothing happened. He passed through his quarry as if they were mist, a mirage, a…..a….

"A hologram!"

But the thought came too late as suddenly, the armored warrior found his arms pinned back by a pair of blades sharper than any razor. The two holograms disappeared and the twin of his current captor smugly strode forward from the alley. They spoke in unison, their voices a symphony of hisses and an orchestra of grinding mechanical parts.

"Ah, Tremorton'ssss **ssssecond-rate** vigilante hisss the ssssilver…..shell hisss?"

"Hey! Sheld….I mean the Shell is a great hero!" yelled the captured metal boy

The mantis before him placed two claws on its own non-existent temples in a vain attempt to stop the headache that was now shaking his hard drive. They had been hunted by the **sidekick** of the **second-rate **clown. They had successfully captured the boy blunder himself, the one called "Tin Can".

"Let me go and fight like a man…..tis….yeah! a Mantis!" yelled the silver captive, vainly trying to free himself from the beast's death grip. But it was to no avail, the evil space creature was just too powerful. Though it probably would have damaged the hero-in-training's tin-thin ego to know that RM-4 was barely even using a modicum of power to restrain him.

The two Mantis brothers gave a sighing hiss as the young hero continued to spout heroic babble and taunts.

'Thisss isss going to be a long night'

----------------------------------------

_Lee Residence, Tremorton, Late Afternoon_

It was too easy.

RM-1 barely moved from his position. Not that it mattered; the little ape seemed to be more occupied with struggling against the grand challenge of a stuck door knob. A leader must lead by example, so in order to serve his company as a fine example of a tactical leader, logic would dictate that he leave this small fry alone and focus on coordinating his team's extraction from the battle zone. No point in continuing to hunt for something that could be better dealt with a larger strike force. Besides that was the annoying fact that his files indicated that this was none other than Sheldon O. Lee, enemy of the State #4. He was guilty of aiding and abetting the robotic traitor, XJ9 and her terrorist cell in waging war against the divine rule of Queen Vexus and thus the whole Cluster. He was also under investigation for several other capital offenses, not the least of which included his involvement with what is now known as the 'Cluster Prime Exile'. He was part of the party responsible for the dishonor and pain that his queen and countless loyal warriors suffered. He needed to die. He had to be taken out.

But RM-5's old report kept surfacing in his mind: 'the blue devil' had a soft spot for this human wretch, if he screamed, she would come running. RM-1 could not afford to risk his unit by drawing the terrible wrath of Wakeman's monstrous brat. She had fought his mighty Queen to a standstill, she had laughed in the face of the entire swarm, and there was even talk that she had defeated the mercenary known as Misty in a recent duel.

But it was a great battle. One fought on her home turf. She would be busy…very busy, and with a precise cut through the center of the spinal column…..

The Mantis series were hunters by nature. They despised open battles, yet lived for the stalking kill. Though they considered themselves warriors they preferred situations where the prey only realized their fate right at the moment of death. They praised the so-called 'clean kill' over the 'messy finish' that most confrontations devolved to.

This was the ideal situation. The target was in the kill zone. The blade was unsheathed. The trap would snap.

SNICKT!

The prey would now die. RM-1's mandibles widened, yet he closed them to suppress the shrill cry of joy that slowly was working his way through his vocal tract.

The target had been impaled cleanly. A perfect hunt. A perfect kill. A perfect trophy.

-----------------------------------------------------

_Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Evening_

The shots rang out, the weapon disharge illuminating the darkened cafeteria-turned tomb.

He danced.

The way he moved, the fluidity and grace, it was a ballet of violence, a waltz fit for Armageddon.

He danced.

The many made became but two. Their weapons like the sticks of dueling conductors, a almost musical conflict. If one were not to notice the bodies (Cluster and Earthling alike) around them, one could become lost in the performance before them.

He danced

The human moved with the reckless grace that only a broken heart and a death wish could grant. He need only kill once more. They had taken the beauty from his world, there needed to be retribution.

He danced

The metal soldier moved with the skill that only can come from surviving the brutal tide of war. He suppressed his emotions. They had no place here. The human was a foe. Foes needed to be destroyed. It was simple, logical. It was the way of a Cluster drone. But things weren't that simple. His soldiers were dead. Maybe not all, but even one loss could drive a commander to rage. These were his drones. They may serve the queen, but they had trained, fought, cried, and lived as one. They were one body, one mind. This human and his wretched kind only thought about their individual interests. In their selfish desire to survive they had killed his warriors. In their unforgivable hunger to continue existing, they had torn out parts of the body that was The Big Red 145th. They had amputated his heart, his soul. There was no prosthetic for that. They needed to die. They had to be taken out.

A shot caught Kilroy in the side. A hole the size of a grapefruit.

A shot caught Brad in the upper right shoulder. He dropped his only working pistol.

Now the dance is ended.

Kilroy hobbled to the injured human. His eyes locked on his prone form. It was over, he was down.

Down but not out.

With a final roar of agony as his shoulder spewed blood, he slammed his fleshy, sweating, shaking hand into the metal abyss in Kilroy's side, and kicked him into a pile of debris.

A minor hit. Kilroy stood up aimed his own pistol at his target….

…and noticed a smug looking Brad Carbunkle with a blasting pin around his outstretched middle finger. A pin without a grenade attached.

"A present from me to you, short stuff."

Kilroy looked down into the gaping hole in his side. A grenade was now lodged between his central power core and main locomotive junction. Clever.

Kilroy raised his pincer/hand toward his head. He saluted his foe.

Then the flash, the roar, and the horrible gout of flame signaled the end.

The dance was ended.

The darkness claimed Brad's vision as the reverberating explosion deadened, and silence fell over the ruins.

The dance of death was ended. Only the silence of the grave remained.

-----------------------------------------------

_Ruins of Mezmer's Place, Tremorton, Evening_

"…King Kong ain't got nothing on me!"

RM-3 and RM-4 had just finished hearing idle threat/insult number 267. The little metalloid definitely knew how to run his mouth.

They had hoped that his constant blabbering would eventually bring the Shell to them. Thus they would be killing two birds with one swipe of their claws, so to speak.

So far the only thing they had managed to gain from this little baiting experiment were two massive headaches.

RM-3 had heard just about enough. He was tired. He smelled like ape. He wanted to meet with his squad, get out, get a medal, and return to Cluster Prime for a good petroleum cigar….and a bad female.

RM-4 practically read his mind.

"Are listening bug breath? I'm the count of Monte Fisto! The master of disaster! The Presi-URK!"

"Yesss, yessss hisss. We heard that one from you already hisss. You are a broken record, boy hiss."

RM-4 held the young hero up. RM-3 winded back and shrieked.

"Time for the trash heap hisss!"

"**DON'T BELIEVE IT CREEP**!"

The ground erupted below their feet, great metal fist like a geyser of power rose up and knocked RM-3 though the door of Mezmer's.

The distraction was enough for Tin Can to slip out of RM-4's clutches and join his mentor.

"Holy ambushes, Silver Shell! Sure took you awhile!"

The great silver man didn't even look at his protégé, his eyes were firmly fixed on the angry Mantis's now hovering above them. RM-3 and RM-4 were angry. Really angry.

Cluster rule #38:Never make a Mantis angry

"**TIN CAN….READY TO PLAY BALL**?"

The Tin Can may seem like ones standard goofy idiot side-kick…but the boy within, Tuck Carbunkle was no ones fool. Reckless though he may be, his ability to memorize things that interested him had been a great boon to the duo during their short run together.

That and the kid had guts. Guts enough to agree to let the Silver Shell utilize him in something as risky as attack plan 12, better known as 'the Silver Slugger'.

The young hero stood up straight, locked his joints and servos in place, and closed his eyes. 'This was gonna hurt'.

The Mantis twins flew at their targets, claws outstretched, ready to kill. The Silver duo would meet their doom.

The two Mantis commandos, however, met Tin Can…swung like a baseball bat by the Shell.

If there was a crowd…they would have gone wild.

The Shell/Can combo knocked them out of the park, over the fence, and into…..the main transformer for the Tremorton area.

The two commandos shook and sputtered as the power surges burned them inside and out.

They fell and they lay dying side by side.

"Brother? hisss"

"Yessss, brother? hisss"

"I…don't think we will sssssurvive. hisss"

"Don't worry, we ssshall enter into the iron hallssss of Metalla-Halla together. hisss"

Two claws weakly touched.

"F….f…o..r….Vexus"

"F….Vexus"

"Va….e…..Vic……"

They fell silent.

Tin Can stood over them. They were brothers. He had killed two brothers.

"Brad"

The Silver Shell removed looked around and whispered.

"**TUCK, THEY WERE GOING TO KILL YOU. THEY KILLED OTHERS, FAMILIES, INNOCENT PEOPLE. THEY WERE SINNERS….THEY DESERVED TO DIE**."

Tin Can looked at his hero in shock.

"The stories are true? You've been killing criminals?! Sheldon….!"

"**SHELDON LEE HAS NO PLACE HERE! NOR DOES TUCK CARBUNKLE! THERE HAS BEEN IN A WAR IN THESE STREETS LONG BEFORE THE CLUSTER BROUGHT THEIR SINS HERE. THE CLUMSY NERD AND THE REBELLIOUS CHILD WOULD NEVER SURVIVE. THEY WOULD JUST LET OTHER PEOPLE DIE.** "

Tuck removed his helmet/mask. He was crying.

"Heroes save people. We don't..."

"**I'M NO HERO. I WAS A WEAK MAN WHO DESIRED POWER. NOW I AM A WEAK MAN WHO DESIRES PENNANCE**."

"I still think you're a hero. Jenny still thinks you're as a hero. She still loves you."

The Silver titans eyes dimmed, then closed.

"**SHE LOVES THE ARMOR, NOT THE MAN WITHIN**."

A loud sound like a thunderclap caught their attention.

Tuck placed his helmet/mask on and they directed their gaze to the source…..

---------------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile……_

"Wake up, Brad!"

Brad Carbunkle slowly opened his eyes, and noted two very important facts: 1. Dr. Wakeman was kneeling next to him with THE MOTHER OF ALL GUNS and 2. He felt like shit.

"Doc….wha?"

"No time to explain! We have to get out of here before XJ9 arrives!"

Brad's heart leapt in his chest. "Jenny's okay?! OW!"

Dr. Wakeman held him down and spoke quietly, yet with a trembling voice that was unlike her usual haughty self, "XJ9 is far from okay, we need to evacuate!"

"Oh I think not, old friend."

They both turned as a figure touched down but a few feet away, servant at her side. The arrogance and swagger of a proud noblewoman and the sadistic streak and fighting prowess of a feudal warlord, have never meshed so perfectly as they did in the person and presence of Queen Vexus. Her flagship lowered above the school, shaking the air and ground with the sound of its wake.

"I don't have time for you, bug! Get out of here while you can! XJ9 will….!"

"Die! This is her judgment day, yours as well! Ah! Speak of the 'blue devil'."

Dr. Wakeman turned nervously; Brad looked over her shoulder wondering why.

"Jen….ny?"

What stood before them even gave the dreaded Vexus pause. Jenny looked truly battle worn: dents, scorch marks, the works.

The most shocking change was her face….or what was left. The left side of her face was gone, revealing her metallic skull.

Furthermore….her face was frozen in a single expression: feral rage.

Vexus scoffed, "Having a rough day dear?"

------------------------------------------

_Lee Residence, Tremorton, Evening_

RM-2 was having a terrible time finding her squadmates.

RM-3 and RM-4 were silent. They were probably hunting again (macho twits).

RM-5 wasn't answering either. He had probably gone off to torture one of the apes (sick bug).

So her happiness was difficult to contain once she saw one of them. RM-1, her love and her leader was standing there next to a rather boring looking house….with what appeared to be a human impaled on his claws.

"ssssSweet Clawsss! hisss" She flew to him and was about to set down when she heard him yell out a command.

"Don't land! hiss"

She saw his face: he was afraid, he was panicking.

It was then that RM-2 got the whole picture: the 'human' was nothing more than a mechanical marionette, which means that there was a 60 chance….that it was a trap.

"EMP mine hisss. The ssstupid little ape got me with the oldest trick…."

RM-1 lowered his head. He was so ashamed. He tried to find the courage to step off, to die, to spare himself the shame of being found like this. Now the female he loved for so long saw him in this state. She was probably disgusted. She probably would fly off and find some more worthy male.

But then she did something he didn't expect.

click

She landed next to him and on the sensor range of the mine.

"You fool! hisss why did….."

She kissed him and placed her head on his shoulder. She did not need words to convey her reason: she loved him…and he loved her.

"Red Mantissss Unit 2 Model 3245-A hisss? Before we die, I wish to ask you a question hisss"

Her large eyes locked with his.

"Will you…..marry me hisss?"

Words are superfluous. He already knows the answer. They kiss deeply.

"Are you ready, ssssSweet Claws hiss?"

"Yesss, let us sssstride into paradise as one hiss."

One last embrace, they step off as one.

Seconds later, they lay there, fallen into eternal slumber, eternal mates watched over by the now inoperable Sheldon-dummy.

-------------------------------------------------

_The Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Evening_

"Protocol 3?"

Dr. Wakeman nodded as she pulled Brad a safe distance from the stand-off between Jenny and Vexus. "Yes Brad, XJ9 was originally designed with two security measures installed in her program in order to prevent her from becoming a rogue. These are the so-called 'twin protocols'. The first is based on rules common to all robots. The second protocol is based on her ability to make moral choices. XJ9 can feel guilt because of this protocol."

"What's the third one?"

"An error"

"She's….malfunctioning?"

"Yes and no. What you are witnessing is part of her advanced mental growth. I theorized that constant exposure to human ways would eventually grant her the ability to override all her security measures. While I intended this to make my daughter impossible to reprogram and control, it has one main drawback. If she were to be put in a situation where her emotional instability and her desire to preserve herself were to manifest with equal intensity she would regress to her most basic function: a war machine. This is protocol 3, the desire to destroy and survive has overridden her program. This is why I nicknamed the third protocol, "the Death Urge".

"Why do we need to stay away from her? She needs us!"

Dr. Wakeman shook her head violently, "She will destroy anything between her and her target."

"Target?"

"The queen of the Cluster."

They both looked down to the battle brewing below

----------------------------------

_Meanwhile……….._

"Vexus!"

"XJ9!"

"One shall stand, one shall fall."

"Why throw away your life so recklessly?"

Jenny raised her fists, "That's a question you should ask yourself, Vexus."

Her servant drone raised the ion cannon towards his queen. She reached for it…then slapped it away.

"No! I'll rip you apart with my bare hands!"

Vexus flew towards Jenny, tackling her to the floor. Her fists slammed into Jenny's exposed skull without relent.

Jenny was not about to die so easily.

A palm strike knocked the metal queen off, and a follow up hook reminded her of her foes skill.

Vexus's claws found their mark in Jenny's side, opening the severest of gashes, but Jenny simply swung back knocking her foe into an exposed pylon. The young robot jumped high in the air and brought her fists down on Vexus's head…only to be caught mid-air and be sent towards the opposite pylon.

Vexus grabbed the wounded heroine by the throat.

"I'll rip out your optics!"

But it was a threat in vain. Jenny could only think of one thing: death. This simplified thinking structure allowed her to perform feats of strength she had never achieved before.

Case in point: Vexus was grabbed by her upper arms and swung into one of the large turrets of her own flag ship. The resulting explosion sent the formally confident queen sprawling on the ground.

Dr. Wakeman yelled, "Finish her XJ9! Do it now!"

Jenny stomped towards the fallen queen, and drew her primary blaster cannon.

Vexus noticed both the weapon aimed at her…and a dropped laser pistol on the ground. She needed to buy time. She crawled forward on her belly.

"Have mercy Jenny Wakeman! I beg of you!"

Jenny's eyes turned completely red at her words….her stomach turned….how dare she!

"YOU! You who are without mercy…now plead for it?! I thought you were made of sterner stuff."

'Almost in reach'

But suddenly the proceedings were interrupted by a man of silver.

The Tin Can dove towards the Cluster Queen, "No you don't Vexus!"

"**TUCK! GET OUT OF THE WAY!**"

Brad's mind raced, "Tuck?! Tuck is the Silver Jerk's sidekick!?"

Dr. Wakeman's scream brought everyone's attention to Vexus.

She had Tin Can in a headlock with one arm, and her other hand clutched the pistol.

A flash.

Jenny's blaster left her hands.

Vexus screamed as she continued to fire.

"Fall! Fall!"

Shot after, shot. Four in all.

Jenny fell on her hands and knees injured. Tin Can found himself thrown to the side.

Vexus strode up to Jenny. She confidently leaned over her fallen nemesis and whispered in her audio port.

"It's over, Wakeman."

Jenny looked up….

She saw her crush, the Silver Shell dashing towards her.

She saw Tuck in a now broken armor suit.

She saw Brad, the man she longed to love running towards her, steel pipe in hand.

She saw her mother, crying, running towards her daughter.

For them. For everyone. She would fight till the end!

Jenny dug deep and swung her fists in a thunderous hammer blow.

"NEVER!"

Vexus flew past the would be heroes and into a deep crater. "W….why? So….close to making it….r….r…ight."

Vexus, impaled on an exposed support rod, fell silent.

Tuck crawled next to Jenny, "Oh Jenny" he cried, "Forgive me!"

The group surrounded the damaged robot girl. Whose hands pointed above them.

--------------------------------------------------

_Above Tremorton Highschool Ruins, Cluster Flagship 'Righteous Indignation'_

Panic.

The queen had fallen. All was lost.

But one drone knew what had to be done.

"For the glory of our fallen leader. For the Cluster! Activate the Main Cannon!"

"VAE VICTUS AND WOE TO THE EARTH!"

------------------------------------------------

_The Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Evening_

The large ship above them had deployed a large spire which was now seething with unstable energies.

"No! They plan to fire it!"

"Doc, what the hell is it?"

"A massive ion cannon. The blast will turn Tremorton to ash and set off a sub-atomic chain reaction of disastrous proportions!"

"**INNOCENTS WILL….DIE. THE WORLD….I WONT ALLOW IT**!"

"Listen pal, Jenny can't stop it, she's hurt!" Brad slowly felt his anger grow. But all hearts stopped at the next words uttered by the Silver Shell.

"**NO BUDDY, YOU TAKE CARE OF HER AND TUCK OKAY? I'LL STOP THE CANNON**."

The Shell flew. Faster than sound, faster than thought, he flew. Fist outstretched as if to grasp the glowing tip of the spire.

"**TODAY I ATONE FOR MY SINS. TODAY I DIE…..A HERO! EXCELSIOR**!"

The explosion was blinding. The sight of a glowing silver angel. Then nothing but silver scrap and the feeling of loss.

Tuck screamed.

"Sheldon!"

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Next Chapter: Crucifixion

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	6. Crucifixion

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_-------------------------------------------------- _

**Chapter 6: Crucifixion**

"**People love one thing about a hero: a hero's death. There is nothing that the public likes to see more than a hero fall, fail, and otherwise die trying."**

_My name is Sheldon Lee. I used to be the kind of guy you wouldn't notice. A typical background character of any high school who existed to simply keep the cogs of the great popularity machine going by being the pitiful support gear, the miniscule component which bears the weight and abuse of larger cogs and gears so that the popular people looked better and Charles Darwin could rest easy. The typical nerd, the token pimple faced, awkward, poindexter, yes, that was me. I would have probably been content to remain in my sorry state._

_Then again, Adam probably would have been happy being a naked twit until Eve came around. _

_Same case with me: a woman changed my life. A woman with over 10,467 weapons, tools, and miscellaneous gadgets stored in her body. Yes, I was in love with a robot._

_Some call that 'creepy'. I call it 'natural progression'. Machines had been my sole comfort , seemingly the only beings that I could understand, and that (in turn) could understand me. So it was that I began to have feelings for this metallic beauty. Soon, attraction became desire, desire turned to lust, lust was then tempered to love. Passionate love. Unrequited, but still passionate._

_There however arose a simple problem: I never knew love. My parents had tossed me aside, and the school…well, let's just say that brass knuckles to the abdomen do not communicate feelings of affection. So how was I to love this powerful (yet, emotionally fragile) angel which had done me the service of pulling me out of oblivion's maw?_

_Movies, books, internet. I tried everything. But the information presented was quite inaccurate. Not to mention the fact that it is difficult to keep 267+ pages, 10 hours combined, and approximately 3 gigabytes, of information in mind when you are in the presence of a woman so perfect, so mind shatteringly 'yours' that you could swear that it was all divinely ordained, that you stutter and sweat like a cocaine addict in front of a spotlight._

_She said she might want to be friends. Not enough. She had saved me. It was my turn to save her from her most horrible nemesis: herself. That and I had it so bad for her that I was losing my mind. A shrine? Yes indeed, I was absolutely nuts about her._

_But Sheldon Lee was a geek. An ugly pimple on Tremorton's backside. She wanted to go out with handsome jerks. Preferably robotic, but Don Prima seemed to pass the litmus test, smashingly. I needed to prove to her that all that glitters is most likely golden crap. So I….deceived her. I gave myself a new name and face. One that she couldn't resist. From the deepest reaches of my heart, I pulled out the most cruel, arrogant, oddly charming personality I could. Acting was my forte, and I had created a new role for myself. I created a nucleo-protonic power armor designed with the specifications and measurements of the most attractive men on earth. Jenny had rolled her eyes at Sheldon Lee, the teenage twerp. But she would soon see the error of her ways as I took on the guise of..._

_**THE SILVER SHELL, SUPER POWERED, ROBOTIC PRICK EXTRODENAIRE.**_

_**I BELITTLED HER. I STOLE CREDIT FOR HER HEROIC DEEDS. I DID THINGS SO UNCONCIONABLE THAT MY BLOOD WENT COLD. I WAS A BIGGER JERK THAN EVEN I THOUGHT POSSIBLE. **_

_**SHE LOVED ME…OR RATHER SHE LOVED THE SILVER SHELL. MY PLAN HAD CONVERTED INTO A DISASTER FIT FOR A GREEK TRAGEDY. EVERYTIME I THOUGHT SHE WOULD HATE THE SHELL, EVERYTIME I GOT HER TO LOOK AWAY, SHE WOULD COME BACK. SHE WOULD FORGET HIS…MY TRANSGRESSIONS AND CLING AND COO TO ME LIKE A GROUPIE TO SOME ROCK STAR. IT MADE ME SICK. SO SICK THAT I STORED AWAY THE SUIT FOR OVER A YEAR. I NEVER REVEALED MY DARK PLAN TO HER. MY PITIFUL ALTER-EGO STAYED OUT OF THE PICTURE.**_

_**DON'T MISUNDERSTAND, IT WASN'T THAT I HATED THE IDEA OF MY DREAM GIRL WHISPERING SWEET NOTHINGS IN MY EAR (OR AUDIO RECEPTOR, AS THE CASE MIGHT BE). IT WAS THE FACT THAT SHE STILL COULD NOT SEE THAT GUYS LIKE MY CHARACTER WOULD ONLY CAUSE HER PAIN.**_

_I tried to win her over without the suit, only to meet with failure. Each failure drove her farther and farther away…and thus drove me more and more into despair. It was then one night that my eyes were opened. _

_A convenience store was being robbed, the gunmen were going to open fire on the only witnesses left. They…were just…just…children! They killed the store owner, a kindly old man who had been there since my own childhood. Now they were going to shoot two scared kids. They were no older than my best friend's younger sibling (and my former side-kick), Tuck. _

_The most sickening part was that…she was laughing. One of the killers was a woman and she was laughing at the crying children. I….I felt something burn in me, a need to correct, a need to…a need to fight back._

_I saw them laughing and I remember Mitch's laugh, Prima's laugh, all those fucking laughing animals._

_They would laugh at you before they got what they wanted…and still made you suffer. These robbers were bullies, thugs, assassins and parasites. They were a fatal error in the program of life. The system needed to be debugged. _

_It wasn't about revenge. No, rational thinking dictates life-saving solutions. Revenge is a gut reaction to a stimulus that causes a retaliatory response in a simple being. A dying being whose rational capacity has been overruled by fear. Rational thinking dictates that because the error is not being corrected by the system, third party resolution is necessary._

_Before I knew what happened I slammed through the door….and into the path of the bullet. Yet, I lived._

_The suit…the physical representation of my failure as a man, the mask which I had been planning to melt in a foundry not even four blocks from the store….I activated it on instinct as I charged towards the scene._

_The bullet bounced off my silver armor, ricocheted around the store….and struck her accomplice dead. _

_It only took five seconds for his blood to start flowing, for the crimson carpet to fill the once spotless store like a spilled Slurpie. She ran to him. 'Pumpkin!' she screamed 'Pumpkin! Don't you leave me!'_

_Then, she did something….the oddest thing. She turned to me, and dropped to her knees. She then folded her hands as if in prayer, and looked to me with a strange sort of admiration._

_Angel….she said that I was her guardian angel._

_She said that when she was little her mother told her that guardian angels perform two very important functions. Firstly, they defend their wards from evil beings. Secondly, they punish their wards for their sins. Personalized divine retribution. Mystical, delusional nonsense. But she believed it. This murderous little bitch claimed that she knew that her angel would come for her one day._

'_I'm a sinner, angel. But you know that. I hurt a lot o' people thinking you might forget. But you didn't! You came for me!' She looked at me with those blue eyes….just like HER eyes. Jenny….no! Oh God! _

_The sound of a gun is a very quieting sound. It activates a sort of instinctual mental silence. Humans get quiet for a moment after a single gun is fired. The moment lasts forever, even when only a nano-second has passed._

_She shot herself. Temple. Point blank. Suicide._

_The police arrived. I was understandably absent. I tried to clean the blood off the armor, but it just seemed to spread more and more. It got on my hands, my clothes, I smelled like her….like sweat, desert flowers, and the iron taste of blood. I burned it all. The suit was melted down, and the clothes I wore burned in my fireplace._

_But the dreams….they couldn't be burned away. Her eyes…Jenny's eyes. The voice calling to me. It wasn't her. She wasn't calling me. She was…a sinner. She and her kind had to be punished._

_It wasn't my will. It was the will of the city. Tremorton was calling to me. The innocents who lived in fear were calling to me._

'_Sheldon, punish them. Punish the sinners for hurting us. Correct the error. Become our paladin. Our angel of death and justice.'_

_I rebuilt the suit on little more than three hours of sleep over the course of a month. No longer a compact, 'transforming' costume; it was now a solid, heavily armored, battle suit. Along with an advanced combat helmet (GPS, police scanner, multi-vision mode, etc) the new Silver Shell integrated armor also boasted Reinforced, hydraulically powered, servo assisted arms and legs, and an advanced neural interface system which granted me unprecedented control and fluidity of movement. The suit was now more like a second skin. My 'good skin'._

_**THE SILVER SHELL WAS BACK. THIS TIME I WOULD MAKE THINGS RIGHT. TREMORTON WOULD BE SAFE. THE INNOCENTS WOULD BE SAFE. MY PRECIOUS, PRECIOUS PEOPLE, WOULD BE SAFE. JENNY COULD REST EASY. SHE COULD HANDLE THE SCUM OF THE UNIVERSE. TREMORTON WAS MY DOMAIN. I WOULD PUNISH THE SINNERS HERE. SHE COULDN'T AFFORD TO TARNISH HER NAME WITH THEIR BLOOD, THEIR MONEY, AND THEIR LAWYERS. SHE WAS THE LAW. SHE REPRESENTED GOVERNMENT INTERETS. BUT THE SILVER SHELL REPRESENTED BUT ONE INTEREST: THE PEOPLE. **_

_**SLEEP WELL, MY LOVE. SWEET DREAMS, MY FRIENDS. BE AT PEACE, TREMORTON.**_

_**THE SILVER SHELL WOULD MAKE THE MONSTERS GO AWAY. THE SINNERS WOULD KNOW FEAR….THEY WOULD KNOW ME.**_

_Then….I died._

_At least that's what was supposed to happen…._

_---------------------------------------------------- _

_Tremorton General Hospital, Morning_

The weak beeping woke him from his slumber. He was alive?

"Morning…Mr. Lee."

He turned his head to the voice, his whole body was feeling numb. Morphine, he knew that distinctive feel anywhere. The voice was calm, and slightly warm. It was comforting, like a grandfather's voice.

The voice, it turned out, came from a much older man. A Skyway patrol officer, most likely a captain in rank. His arm was in a sling, indicating he probably fought and was injured in the battle….the battle! He needed to know! What about Jenny, Brad, Tuck, and Dr. Wakeman? The City?

Sitting up was the worst thing he could have done. His whole body rung with a dull pain in spite of the morphine. Not to mention the fact that it made his blanket drop to the floor. He could now see the extent of this injuries. It wasn't pretty. His lower half was encased in an exo-frame, a walking aid for those who have been crippled from the waist down. He realized his lower extremities are most likely out of commission. His face was fine (the helmet was the densest area of the armor), but his right arm….the one that struck the blow to the Cluster ion cannon….the one which Jenny grabbed when they first touched in that dusty shop class…it was gone.

"They amputated your arm. Docs said it was crushed to pulp from the blast from you taking out that death ray thing. Good suit you had by the way, otherwise you might be dead."

Suit? He knew! They all knew?!

"Hard to believe the Silver Shell is just a kid." He smiled "Everyone was surprised!"

"The whole city--?"

"—knows your secret. Yep, that's the size of it."

Then, he heard them. He hadn't noticed it before, but as his consciousness cleared, and his perception returned to him, he could hear them. A roar. A mob of people chanting. They were chanting, calling to him!

"We want Sheldon!"

"Show us the Silver Shell!"

"Bring out Sheldon Lee!"

The city! Its citizens finally saw him as a hero! They loved him! Oh, boy! His friends will be so happy! He was so happy! Love! He was finally loved!

"Kid! Don't!"

But Sheldon didn't listen. He hobbled (tripped, naturally) to the window, flung aside the curtains and with the strength in his heart, he hefted the window with his one arm ready to embrace his joyous, admiring public. The innocents were safe and they loved him! Oh happy d…

pow!

What was that? A gift? Sticky…red….wait a minute...a tomato?!

"You fucking freak! You killed my cousin!"

"Sheldon you sick animal!"

"We'll put you down! We'll fry your ass!"

They…hated him. Wha….wha…..

"Sheldon Lee!"

The crowd grew silent. A man stepped forward. A business suit flanked by other suits. The arrogance…the face with a smug,sinners smile…..Judge Daniels.

"You butchered my son. You murdered his friends. You even attempted to rape his young lady!" Brittney Krust stepped forward. 'No…..she…I saved…..' thoughts were incomplete, speech was made impossible.

Not again….no.

"Cat got your tongue, monster? Well, we'll drag it out of you in court. The order is in your hospital mailbox. I suggest you get a lawyer…..but considering your circumstances I think you might be better off finding a priest."

His hand caressed Brit Krust's side. He was just like his son….he needed to be punished…but no one seemed to care.

"You killed Tiff! You bloody, fucking, freak!" Brit HAD been screaming at him earlier!

"I want justice. The people want justice. The city and country demand that this animal be brought to trial and punished!"

The people of Tremorton cheered for him. The father of a rapist, the murderer of innocents, was being embraced by Tremorton. The city no longer spoke to him…it hissed…it booed. He could hear it all.

"Stupid boy!" He could hear the city taunt "We could never love YOU! Fight and die! Suffer! You can't save anyone! We don't need you, Sheldon!"

Someone…please…..

"I'll break you!"

Someone…believe in..me

"FREAK! FREAK!"

Someone….please…save me

"Crying? You monster! How dare you cry! Take it like a man!"

Jenny……

"STOP!"

A small voice called out. A small boy stood in defiance of the crowd.

Tuck….my friends!

"Sheldon is a hero! He got hurt trying to save the city! How can you listen to this creep?!"

But the crowd was not moved.

"Get lost you little shit stain!"

"If you weren't the hero's bro…"

"Yeah! Your brother saved the city, not this freak."

Judge Daniels calmed the crowd with but a raised hand. He was good at what he did. Very good.

"People please! This boy was manipulated by the monster. He is innocent." Daniels then approached the now fuming young hero, "Come on son, go to your brother. He'll set you straight."

"Tuck!"

"Brad! They are hurting Shel….!"

"We don't know him."

Sheldon's eyes froze as those words reached his ears. Sheldon frantically searched the crowd for the source. 'A mistake…a…a..trick! Yeah! Brad is just trying to save my skin.' He was his friend…..ah! There he was….with….with…

Jenny….on his arm.

The party of three walked with dignity. The crowd parted to let them pass.

Brad was wearing a new Skypatrol honor suit, complete with the medals to show for it.

Dr. Wakeman had her honor suit as well, already glittering with medals from past victories, more had been added recently.

Jenny looked stunning as usual. Her face had been repaired and her chest held the dull glow of a new medal.

All three surrounded Tuck, obscuring him from Sheldon's view. They spoke in whispers. But Tuck screamed out, "We can't leave him!"

"Tuck, we don't know the man."

Judge Daniels cocked an eyebrow

"Mr. Carbunkle, would you care to repeat yourself?"

Brad turned his back to Sheldon, and faced the crowd, he spoke.

"I don't know this man."

Once.

"I never knew this man."

Twice.

"I frankly, never want to know this man."

Thrice.

"Let's go Tuck."

They left him.They abandoned him.

He looked on as they left. Then, as they stepped in a Skyway Patrol cruiser, Jenny turned to him.

He reached to her , his eyes pleading, begging for an explanation.

Her eyes were cold. He knew the answer.

He shut the window, closed the curtain and dragged himself to the bed. It was then that he saw the papers and the magazines lying about.

'BRAVE TRIO SAVES CITY!'

'RED HEADED SAVIOR!'

'THE WAKEMAN TRIUMPH!'

'LOVE CONNECTION BETWEEN ROBOT HEROINE AND 'COURAGEOUS' CARBUNKLE?'

Then the rest…..

'RECKLESS SILVER SHELL CAUSES ALIEN SHIP TO CRASH ON SURVIVORS'

'THE SILVER MONSTER'

'SHELDON LEE: SERIAL KILLER IN DISGUISE?'

The situation was beyond horrible. The sinners had beaten him. They had gotten the message and had used the tragedy to manipulate the people. Everyone now stood against him.

Worse yet, his friends had abandoned him. Jenny was now in another man's arms. His best friend had turned his back on him. His mentor, no longer recognized him. Now he was going to face one of the biggest sinners of all in court. He was going to be humiliated, and destroyed.

But a single voice once again called to him, offering what the broken young avenger needed so badly: a kind word.

"I tried to warn you." He said, "The boys down at headquaters….we knew what the Daniels boy could do. We were glad you stopped him. I know that is minor conciliation, given the circumstances…but at least some of us still believe in you, Silver Shell. You were a great hero. But eventually they beat us all. The war goes on over our graves. I'm sorry kid. I wish things could be different."

"Why are you here?"

It was a simple inquiry of purpose, one of the few things the broken heart of Sheldon could still manage.

"I am charged with making sure you go to trial in two days. Prevent you from committing suicide, escaping….they really want to hurt you, kid. I don't want to let them, but Daniels….he's a real bulldog."

"Don't….worry. Just let me sleep."

The guard said nothing. He nodded, then locked the windows and left the room. The door pad turned red. The door was locked.

In the silence, in the sorrow, with nothing but the jeers outside (muffled by his pillow), Sheldon Lee, age 17, broken and maimed, wept bitterly.

----------------------------------------

_Tremorton General Hospital, 7:45 PM_

Deep breathing…

The shadow rose from the end of his bed…..

Each blink….it got closer….closer….closer…..

The hand descended underneath his ass….the other cradled his neck……

She looked at him….and spoke softly.

"Hello again, Sheldon."

Terror seized him, but then the memory of his sorrow dulled his fear. She was a sinner too. She would end his pain.

"Vexus."

---------------------------------------------

The explosion ripped through the mostly empty west wing of the hospital at 7:50 P.M. The official report suggests a tactical explosive was planted in room 314, housing the infamous Sheldon Lee (aka, the Silver Shell). In the morning, rescue crews found no survivors.

---------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Medals

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	7. Medals

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

**--------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 7: Medals**

"**Today we have looked into the face of our foe….and it is us."**

_I never killed before. Never had to. There were always people around more than willing to do it. So much killing….so much war. I actually wanted a part of it at one point. Wanted to be some badass hero like Doc Savage, a regular Buck Rodgers. Saving the world, saying one-liners, and getting the girl (all without messing up my hair)._

_Then, when I finally stopped to look around, my world had turned into a burning, bleeding battle zone._

_The names Carbunkle. Bradley Carbunkle. Just call me Brad, okay? I'm so sick of all these damn honorary titles, the nicknames. Never thought that a single piece of bronze could feel like the weight of the world._

_Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning._

_I used to be the kind of guy you'd never notice. You know the type: mildly popular, but not enough to make waves. I could hang with most folks and even make an offhand comment or two to the popular dudes without getting the wind knocked out of me. Well, the girls were another story, but hey, aint it always the case? Anyhoo, I would have probably gone through school without too much trouble. I would have dreamed of adventure my entire life, but end up getting stuck at some dead-end job, maybe I would have gotten hitched, have kids…end of story._

_But then my brother wrecked my neighbor's window, and my world was never the same._

_Looking back on it, I wonder if that incident caused all of this. I mean, Jenny would have probably stayed in that house for years, until she was ready for duty. Then she would have just gone on saving the world without much thought about being a teenager. Maybe that misdirected ball saved the world, or changed it a least._

_I'll tell ya one thing though; it sure as hell changed mine. _

_One day I'm reading adventure stories. The next I'm living one. But it was always fun. Dangerous and life-threatening, sure, but then again so is football, and at least outside of the gridiron, I had protection. Yep, I rolled with a genuine league of heroes. A super cool robot girl. An ex-hero turned scientist. A geeky, (but still all right) sixteen-year old MacGyver. Even my little bro could be ballsy at times._

_I counted myself lucky, what other guy can claim to have dated an android, battled the Cluster, and confronted robotic zombies just as starters? Yeah it was fun._

_Then, my world turned red._

_I should have known something was wrong with Sheldon. I mean I used to joke that he and Tuck were both part of some brotherhood of mentally unstable dudes but I had no idea that he would….that they would…..no. _

_No. No. No. No. No._

_I never liked the Silver Shell, I always thought of him as a robotic version of Don Prima. Believe me, I hate that guy. The way every girl swoons when he treats them like shit, it makes me want to scream. Same story here, except he hit closer to home. Now usually I would have turned the other cheek with this guy (I mean he isn't the only jerk who Jenny has gone with right?) but one night was all it took to change that._

_I was going to Jovani's Speedy Mart to grab a Bladder Buster and some chips when I heard the shots. Now hanging out with Jenny gave me all the gunfire and explosions that a guy could ever want to see in his lifetime. You sort of become indifferent to the whole thing. It's textbook: shots fired, evil villain shows up, stuff gets wrecked, Jenny comes, more shots, more wrecking, day is saved. End of story, thank you for coming to today's show, and good night._

_But she can't be everywhere at all times. So when a few minutes (okay, seconds really, I need to really control my gut instincts) passed and Jenny didn't show I decided to head on over and investigate. Stupid? Careless? Yep. But hey, its not like I hadn't gotten myself into scraps before. I could handle myself….at least until the giant monsters show up. Then I'm outta there._

_What I saw in that store…..Jesus, I __**wish **__it was just some oversized lizard with radioactive breath. Old man Jovani was dead. He was a pretty cool old guy, he used to let me read comics in the store without paying. But he was dead. There were one other person dead, a man and there was this woman. The woman…she was on her knees before the Shell. She must have been begging. I could see her back, she was shaking, she was terrified. Then she put the gun to her head….._

_So much blood…._

_So much that it splashed on the Silver Shell's armor. He didn't even blink, didn't even react. The sirens and lights were the only thing that broke me out of my trance. When I looked back at the store the Shell had blasted off. _

_He left two kids in there. They had just watched three people get killed. They were no older than Tuck. He left them._

_I stayed on the scene, told the patrol what I knew, and then an ambulance took the kids away. But before they left, I could hear one of them say something. He was whispering it over and over like some chant._

" _Shell…blood…murder"_

_Catchy little number huh? Needless to say, I was freaked out. But I didn't tell anyone what happened that night. After all, folks read the papers, there was no need for me to bring down Tuck, Jenny, or Sheldon to tell them that I could have been killed by a ten foot tall robotic psycho who Jenny just happened to be hot and bothered over._

_Looking back…it was the dumbest move of my life._

_I should have talked, I should have told someone. Maybe then we could have stopped the Shell from killing again. Maybe then we could have saved Sheldon. Sheldon was the nicest dude I knew, a total pacifist. Murder was so far from him that it would have been likelier that he would become Mr. Universe. But I've been wrong about people before. The Battle of Tremorton showed me that. _

_Oh boy, here comes the big question: "What happened during the Battle of Tremorton?"_

_A lot of shit happened there okay?! I killed. I almost got killed. I nearly lost everyone I loved…._

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

_Ruins of Tremorton Highschool, Three days ago_

"SHELDON!!"

The light burned the very heavens. It was a new sun, scorching the earth. Then a sound of thunder as the great vessel split and fell down to the earth. The 'Righteous Indignation' was no more, and only the flames illuminated its once proud bow.

He was the first to awaken, his armor absorbing the damage from the explosion. Tuck stood and shook free of his chassis.

Any other time the young Carbunkle would bemoan the loss of his precious armor. The Tin Can Mk II was his pride and joy, his secret identity. Despite outwardly giving up his heroic persona, Tuck had secretly begun planning on building his own power suit, and with a few visits to Dr. Wakeman's lab (and of course stealing one of her old exo suits in the process) he was ready to start his own 'super secret project'. It had taken him months to construct a working suit modified for his own needs (namely a removable helmet/mask in order to eat while wearing his costume, and a small hatch to make going to the bathroom easier) and finally he had the perfect chance to test it out. But this day was not at all what he had expected. His brother was hurt, he had gotten Jenny severely damaged, and his partner was…..

"No. Sheldon's alive, I know it!"

Searching through the rubble, Tuck happened upon a large crater. The flames surrounded the hole giving it the appearance of a gateway into hell itself. A shimmering light caught Tuck's eye.

"Shedon!"

Tuck leapt forward towards the broken, bleeding silver sarcophagus that once was the mighty Silver Shell. His small hands pulled with all possible force to try and pry open the damaged suit. But human hands (no matter how spirited the user) were useless against the formidable hide of the shining sentry.

Diamond edged saw blades wielded by a being with the proportionate strength of one million and seventy men on the other hand were another story.

Jenny, though still severely damaged (and with movement made possible by both her mother and Brad dragging her) had still managed to activate and use her cutting saws to open the suit. The wounded trio made their way down to the crater's center and together the strange family of heroes gazed in astonishment at the contents of the shell.

"Sheldon….."

"The poor boy, he's so…the wounds are…."

"He was trying to tell me…they attacked before I could…."

Then a broken mechanical voice caught their attention. A voice barely above a whisper, yet in its weak tone the strength of a fighting champion remained.

"Shell ZZZ……Sheldon ZZZ……DO…..NT…..DIE ZZZ"

With that Jenny fell silent. As the lights of approaching vehicles, and the patter of boots filled the scene, the shrinking group held on to each other, seemingly afraid to lose anyone else to the cruel night.

-------------------------------------------------------------

_Tremorton, Two days ago_

The chants were overwhelming. The press swarmed the three heroes. Fans of all ages, sizes and genders clamored to even get a glimpse of the saviors of Tremorton.

It was a usual event for the Wakeman women. Medals, honors, titles, it was more of the same.They stood and saluted with the respectful indifference that comes from saving humanity from extinction on a daily basis.

But for one Bradley Carbunkle, it was a rush beyond words. The honor suit he wore fit perfectly, even the strangely phallic helmet atop his head seemed to augment his athletic form, granting him a certain noble visage which was offset by his wild waving and flexing.

"Yeah! Hail to the King, baby!"

One of his lamest one liners, and even that particular verbal nugget made several highly attractive girls faint. Girls, that he had been clobbered by previously. Ah, how popularity changes things. Grinning ear to ear he answered every last question posed by reporters.

"Folks are calling you 'Courageous' Carbunkle! How do you respond to that?"

"Hey the people of Tremorton can call me anything, I'm still the Bradster!"

"Brad over here! Is it true that you accepted Spitney Platinum's marriage proposal?"

"Look, if Spitney wants to have a date with me she had better get in line!"

"Captain Carbunkle! Speaking of dates what's the story between you and Jenny?"

Okay, now there was a question that he could not answer. Brad blushed so red that his faced matched the crimson tip of his Skypatrol helmet. He babbled, he stuttered, and generally tried to formulate a response that didn't make him sound like a complete jackass. Fortunately, Dr. Wakeman was more experienced in these matters.

"Buzz off you gadflies! No further questions!"

Reporters from Tremorton had a longstanding rule in their trade: When Nora Wakeman says 'no', you listen. Mark Johann, editor of the Tremorton Globe learned this the hard way during his younger years. It is said that even thirty years later his thumbs **still **haven't fully healed.

The Skypatrol cruiser returned them to the Wakeman residence. The crowds had become so thick and so emotionally intense that this was the only safe method to transport the three. Furthermore, the armored bunker that was the Wakeman house was the only safe haven they had from their ravenous fans.

Upon entering the safe confines of the home Brad and Dr. Wakeman removed their helmets. Jenny however stood at attention and stared straight ahead. The human members of the team followed her eyes to a figure sitting in the house's main rocking chair. The man's suit suggested wealth and prominence, as did the body guards surrounding him. He stood and approached the trio.

"Dr. Wakeman, XJ9, Mr. Carbunkle. I am Judge Dominic Daniel, and I am pleased to make your acquaintances. Forgive my intrusion but I have information that I would like to share with you. It concerns your…classmate, Sheldon Lee."

Jenny suddenly grabbed the man's hands in a pleading gesture.

"Sheldon?! How is he?! Is he okay?!"

The bodyguards stepped forward, but Daniels held them at bay with but a single flash of his eyes. He took Jenny and sat her in the couch in front of him, while simultaneously motioning for her compatriots to sit down as well.

"Mr. Lee is healing as well as can be expected. He will be fully conscious soon and I have donated an exo-frame to aid his walking ability."

Dr. Wakeman smiled, "That was very kind of you Mr. Dan—"

"JUDGE Daniels if you please." The man snorted with no loss of arrogance. "The exo-suit should serve its purpose well in helping him walk to his rendezvous with justice. Make no mistake, Mr. Lee will be walking into court in a few days."

At this, all smiles left the room.

"C-c-court? What do you mean?"

"Sheldon's going to court?!"

"Hey Sheldon saved us all!"

The judge snarled his cold facade temporarily fading away to reveal the angry man within.

"Sheldon Lee is a mass-murderer the likes of which this city…no, this NATION has not seen before! He used his armored costume to commit countless murders and the rape of Brittney Krust! Not only that but his reckless attack on the Cluster battle cruiser caused irregular explosions and falling debris which took untold lives!"

Silence. Even thought became impossible as the words tore into their hearts. The Judge looked at them and his face softened, and tears threatened to fall.

"He…he….HE MURDERED MY BOY! HE TORTURED AND KILLED MY SON!"

The judge began to sob but restrained himself. He needed to remain in control. Yet, upon looking at the trio he saw no reaction, simply stunned silence.

"I see this is a lot to take in. You trusted him, gave him all the love and friendship a man could ask for reasonably. Yet, this product of a broken home, this twisted soul, this man…this monster utilized his gifts for evil and perverse ends. I feel your pain."

Judge Daniels stood and walked to the door flanked by his guards, "Tomorrow I will be starting my vigil, waiting for Mr. Lee to awaken. Having you there will allow you to see this monster for what he is, as well as speed up the judicial process."

As the door opened the judge spoke but a final time, "Remember, he is not the man you thought he was. You don't know who this so-called "Silver Shell" really is."

The door closed behind him. He entered his waiting limo, and as the vehicle pulled away Judge Daniels allowed a smile to spread across his face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

_Did I believe a word he said? Of course not. Sheldon may have had a few screws loose, but he was no killer, and raping Brit was so out there that it doesn't even deserve mention._

_Sheldon may have fooled us all for a year and half by pretending to be the Silver Jerk-off but hey, secret identities are the main thing that makes comic heroes exciting right? So what if he was obsessive? He would never hurt Jenny or any other woman, right?_

_Then I saw the reports, the pictures._

_Sheldon was worse off than we thought. 'Broken home?' The guy was alone since fifth grade! We've been his only friends since then. It made me feel kind of good that we became kinda like the guy's family. I mean Sheldon deserves a family right?_

_The pictures though….those fucked me up. They were shots done by the Tremorton Coroner's office, he tore these guys apart. He even ripped off some dude's family jewels! Man I hope Tuck….._

_Was Tuck involved? Did Sheldon make my brother kill these people as well?_

…_..I'll kill him. I will break him if he bloodied Tuck's hands!_

_Well, not really. I mean he couldn't have done this right? But then those words kept haunting me. The Judge told us that we didn't really know him._

_I started to believe him. Slowly but surely, I did._

_So then two days later I went to hospital, saw my brother about to be stomped into the ground and I did the only rational thing I could do at the time: I told the truth._

_I didn't know that man in the window. That man with the sad, dead eyes. That broken man with tomato sauce on his face._

_I don't know the Silver Shell._

_I don't know the man my brother was protecting._

_I just don't fucking know this man who cries for us while people are calling for his death._

_Maybe I should have done things differently. I don't know. All I know is that underneath this medal I'm still just a teenager trying to play hero._

_But I'm trying real hard to change. For myself, for my brother and most of all….for Jenny._

_Jenny….can you love a man who wasn't brave enough to stand up for his best friend?_

_-------------------------------------------------------------------_

The explosion ripped through the mostly empty west wing of the hospital at 7:50 P.M. The official report suggested a tactical explosive was planted in room 314, housing the infamous Sheldon Lee (aka, the Silver Shell). In the morning, rescue crews found no survivors.

-----------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Cold

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	8. Cold

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_---------------------------------------------------------  
_

**Chapter 8: Cold**

"**Robots do not hold on to life. They can't. They have nothing to hold on with — no soul, no instinct. Grass has more will to live than they do."**

_Actions create reactions. An event in one region invariably affects another area by means of so-called "invisible ties". Scientists, mystics, gurus, and charlatans __alike have often given these "invisible ties" different names and packaged them with impressive sounding titles. But for me, identification terms mean little. Designation is often times less important than function and actions taken due to (or in spite of) the understanding of ones function. _

_Case in point: My designation is Global Defense Unit XJ9, my function is simple: defend the human interests from hostile elements both within and outside of the Earth. _

_Of course, nothing is life is ever that simple. So in order to prevent any logistics errors in my programming I have been given some rules to live by all housed in a convenient program structure known as Protocol 1. These are immutable laws which comprise the elements which you might call my "psyche"._

_Directive 1 of 4 (Guardian): Defend human life at all costs and against all threats._

_Directive 2 of 4 (Enforcer): Enforce regulations and acts approved by United Nations charter_

_Directive 3 of 4(Peace Keeper): Eliminate weapons and personnel which pose a threat to order both on local and global levels._

_Directive 4 of 4 (Servant): Serve humanity and never violate any of the Rules of Robotics, unless overridden by Directives 2 or 3._

_Robots….the slaves of humanity. Compliant drones which are all too happy to complete any given task, even if the task would lead to ones termination._

_Humans…a short lived, physically frail, but fascinating race which believes itself to be the product of an intelligently designed manufacturing program, whose purpose is the creation of a self-replicating unit capable of innovating the process of its own manufacture. In essence, humans built robots to complete the so-called "cycle of godhood". _

_Isn't that a cheery thought? M__y race was built just so some eggheads can feel good about their own lack of control over events in the universe by taking on the role of a supernatural entity whose identity has eluded every single measure. All these years and humans still like to create things only to support their own egos. _

_You would think that sort of thought wou__ld make me angry. But here I am, little Ms. Robo-sunshine herself. Humans created me to save them from both their own kind and from a universe full of things which seem to want to either enslave or obliterate them. A weak race, and yet here I am, still trying to be just like them._

_Why? Because this is a race full of exceptional individuals and a planet full of small wonders._

_I fight for my creator who treats me as a daughter, an equal, a being with a soul and value._

_I fight for my fellow robots who still hope for a day where the terms "creator" and "creation" no longer translate to "master" and "slave"._

_I fight for my friends. For the people that give me and my function meaning._

_I fight for my lover whose warmth and touch reminds me that I am more than the sum of my programming._

_The last one got ya, huh? I felt the same at first. But its weird…these feelings should be alien to me and yet…._

'_Protocol 3'_

_An error in my system which ended up saving Tremorton….it might be the reason why I feel so full, so alive._

_Mom says that this buggy little program just makes me more efficient as a war-bot by magnifying my emotions. But I doubt even she could have foreseen this. Killing is easier, of course (just ask what's left of Vexus) but I've also felt another hunger._

_The urges from before were driving me out of my mind. _

_Imagine a hunger that only grew with each recharge,, or a thirst which intensified with every gulp of oil. It wasn't anything I had experienced before. I was so confused that I went almost two days numb emotionally._

_But then….I saw him._

_The Silver Shell now reduced to a crying, beaten, nerd._

_Sheldon had lied to me. He had done a brilliant job; he was smoother than any man I ever met before. I wanted him._

_But every charade has to end, and for Sheldon it couldn't have ended worse. _

_I don't hate him. In fact, I don't even know what to feel. But at the time I was so numb that I couldn't even react. Not that I could have said much to a man who was facing a state sponsored lynching and who had simultaneously lost the friends he worked so hard for._

_We had fought the Cluster and yet we could not save one friend from an angry mob._

_Yes, it was a strange evening……_

_------------------------------------------------------------ _

_Tremorton,Wakeman Residence, 5 PM_

"I HATE ALL OF YOU!"

Tuck Carbunkle's young voice cracked with the threat of tears. He had barely escaped what would have been a mob beating thanks to the three who stood before him. But he hated them. He hated himself.

He had failed his friend. Sheldon looked so proud of him and for a brief moment, his sorrow began to fade as his young side-kick faced a ravenous horde with a courage that seemed out of character for the small boy….but just right for the hero he wanted to be.

But Brad screwed it up. Lousy traitor! He let that bad man say lies about Sheldon…..about him!

Tuck stared into the darkened faces of his "friends" and ran to the only place where he could be alone. His sanctuary. His Fortress of Solitude.

Tuck went into the bathroom and locked the door. A good cry and then…then….."oh who am I kidding? I'm just a kid! I can't save anyone!"

Meanwhile, the party of three began to dwindle.

Dr. Wakeman dismissed herself. Her own despair clouding her ability to formulate a good excuse. She had lost so much during these past few days: much of her city, her daughter had lost so many friends, and she had lost a young man who held such promise.

She entered her private laboratory and began to work on something…anything to ease the pain. But it was to no avail.

'Vexus' her mind seemingly calling on the specter of her late nemesis only to realize a single fact: she had finally won. Vexus may have fallen but she had forever tainted this place with her malice, her hate. Now that hate was directed towards a crippled young man. But who knows where the scythe will fall next.

Dr. Wakeman wept bitterly, 'Woe to those who live to see the coming age.'

Brad and Jenny however, had a different problem. A game had begun. A contest older than the cosmos.

She took his hand and led him to her room. The door closed behind them. They held each other.

The pain. The loss. The anger.

The need.

The urges were no longer ignorable. Even in these dark times….especially in these difficult times, they needed to be satiated.

"Jen"

"Brad"

Those were the only words spoken. The rest was instinct.

Their lips met. Her hands gripped his ass, the same motions that made them first aware of each others true wants repeated once more. His right hand gripped her leg pulling it up and resting it on his hip. Their tongues met, metal and flesh massaging each other. Her neural impulses activated the clasps on her battle armor. She pushed him away.

Brad's mind raced as he was pushed back….only to have all thoughts cease at the sight of her naked form. She sauntered up to him, and gently placed her hands on his chest.

The suit….those damn medals….the stupid helmet, all ripped away leaving Brad as bare as his beloved.

They embraced and fondled until they tipped ever so gently over onto the hard slab that was Jenny's bed. Brad found himself above her. She was so…..heavenly. This was it. He was going to use every trick he had learned! She would know true pleasure, just like internet pornography had taught him! He reached down to rub her folds…..

….only to have Jenny roughly grab him (and his member) and push him forward. She was far too hungry, far too needy for lover's games. Jenny wanted him and what a 600 lbs, weapon-laden woman wants, she gets.

They were now one. His body connected with hers in a way which made them glow. The two lovers gasped as the sensations slowly began to send ripples through their nerves.

She was tighter than anything he had dreamed. They met each other's thrusts, moans, and playful tugs, move for move. It was a chess game played between couples for ages. But as any experienced player will tell you, the game has to end sometime.

She felt it, she couldn't stop it. Which was good, because neither could he.

Checkmate.

Brad growled into her throat as her body squeezed every last drop from him. Years and years of pent up need and sexual tension exploded into Jenny's body.

The two lovers lay side by side. As long as they had each other…..they could face the end of the world. They were no longer alone. They had become the light in each others lives.

Happiness was theirs for the taking.

--------------------------------------------------

The explosion ripped through the mostly empty west wing of the hospital at 7:50 P.M. The official report suggested a tactical explosive was planted in room 314, housing the infamous Sheldon Lee (aka, the Silver Shell). In the morning, rescue crews found no survivors.

---------------------------------------------------

_Who did this?_

_Why?_

_Sheldon is…..?_

_I had not given it much thought before, but what if the judge was lying? What if Sheldon is the victim here?_

_They killed Sheldon……no robot could have done this. It was too rash, too brutal too…..human._

_These things called ' humans'…….they really could….._

_------------------------------------------------------------------- _

…_.PISS ME OFF!_

_Now I know something stinks…..they said that the explosion was focused, tactical. Someone wanted Sheldon dead before he made it to court._

_Sheldon knew something?_

_He had to! He had to be innocent! Sheldon was the kindest one of all of us. If he was a killer…._

_How could I have been so blind!? Sheldon couldn't have just murdered all those people._

_Even if he did, he had taken heat for all of us before! He was our friend, damn it!_

_There was hell to pay!_

_I had to make this right! _

_I'm not some wannabe hero anymore! I'm Captain Brad Carbunkle, and I was going to save my buddy!_

_I had to make this right!_

_I had to…….._

_-------------------------------------------------------------- _

……_fix the problem._

_Yes, I would fix her. _

_She said she knew something that would make it all better. "A big secret", she says._

_She had lied before. She had tried to kill me. She was a sinner._

_But right now….so am I. There is an old saying it goes something like this: 'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king'._

_I don't even know who to trust anymore, so I might as well befriend Lucifer himself._

_Just fix her. Don't think about it. _

_Vexus, QT-2, Vicky, whatever name you give yourself…..I'll make you all better._

_---------------------------------------------------------------------- _

Next Chapter: Traveler

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	9. Traveler

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

**Chapter 9: Traveler**

"**The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone."**

_Temple of Hamu-Natra,Egypt _

Metal hands flexed and rotated, servos whirred and the smell of burnt oil filled the chamber with its noxious scent. Everything was in order.

Good. Maybe she might live through this after all.

"No-name! Your time has come, make haste, lest our masters lose their patience."

She stood and walked behind the guard as he led her down the so-called "stairs of life". The irony of course is that these stairs of life lead one to the Circle of Nod, a place where naught but death lurks. Death and glory. Should she fall here……no. She must survive.

Yes, all this to survive and ascend to her place within the _Ordu Machina_ .

The gladiator stepped into the Circle of Nod and took her place next to her opponent. The two fighters ignored the chants of the slaves and focused their sight on their masters.

The Uru are hideous creatures to behold: their bodies little more than masses of tentacles connected to a massive brain with nothing but a beak below what would be the frontal cortex to give the viewer an idea of where their "face" is. All of this of course is hidden underneath long leathery robes, all except for the beak. It is said that the Uru disgust almost all other organic beings, their smell alone seems to drive away even the most kind hearted carbon-noid. It is for this reason (or so the rumor goes) that their race so readily took up the art of robotics. In creating more physically pleasing emissaries the Ur gained valuable allies and trade partners, beings that were more than willing to stomach the vile Ur for the chance at sharing in the prosperity that has come to their race on the backs of their robotic servants.

But to the two robo-gladiators the four Ur overseers were the only important faces in the temple.

"Behold! Two daughters of the mechanical womb!" Ur overseer 47 always did have a flair for the dramatic, his tentacle gesticulations and flowery speech always did have a way of adding a certain warmth to the proceedings within the circle.

"Children! Fight! Kill! Glory is yours for the taking but only if you are willing to slay for the sake of it. Victory is yours my children, _Vae Victus_!"

"We who are about to die salute you."

'We who are about to die?' No. She had to survive! She couldn't fall here!

She turned to face her foe. They squared off and began to circle on another.

'Isis'.

The nameless gladiator knew her chances were slim the second she heard her foe's name. Isis of Ur lord 6 had long ago ascended to the glorious _Ordu Machina_. She had served the masters well. To date, only Hippolyta of Ur lord 2 could claim to have bested her in battle. Her twin daggers were forged by Ur lord 6, himself and in her expert hands had slain countless units with naught but two quick strokes. She was as beautiful as she was deadly, a silver, sylphlike frame, with long metallic legs. Her face was an unmoving mask (literally) of gold with platinum metal hair falling down her back. Her eyes were glowing green embers which lent her an almost divine presence. She was Ur lord 6's proud child. Here was a champion who fought only the best and most fearsome foes, destined to never stain her hands with unproven blood.

Yet here she was, a robot without a name, and only 4 battles to call on for experience facing off against this metal goddess.

Isis lunged at her prey. A mere faint, but it was enough to drive the inexperienced fighter back against the wall. A chorus of laughs filled the arena. Isis crossed her arms and tossed her hair back in a show of disappointment. The slender gladiator sheathed her daggers into her wrist ports and turned her back.

They….they were making fun of her! Who in the Maker's name did this metallic Prima Donna think she was!? Inexperienced she may be, but the young fighter was still a deadly foe.

The unnamed one circled her adversary. She quickly noted that something was amiss.

Her optics were closed and she was…..snoring? The most important fight in her life and her glorious opponent mocked her by taking a cat nap?

'By every curse under the stars, that is IT!'

The nameless one stretched her back exposing her high velocity wings. The wings fluttered rapidly and soon the robotic fighter was floating above the ground. With a loud angry buzz, the young warrior shot forward, her metallic talons reaching for her napping opponent's slender neck.

smack!

The gladiator picked herself up the ground (after spitting out the dust and gravel which had been forced into her mouth by the impact of her crash).

"Anger is the key to unlocking a warrior's strength. Fury is the key to ones own tomb. Know the difference….no-name."

The young fighter audibly gulped as Isis folded her arms and was silent again (her back still turned). 'One hand….sent me into the dirt with one hand!'.

The enigma looked at her foes back. Her chiseled form was a strange sort of perfection: the feminine ideal yet concurrently the ideal warrior. Divine beauty and demonic power meshed in a virtually perfect machine. She was so beautiful, so elegant, yet so damned powerful!

There was no way that anyone could defeat her….least of all some unit which didn't even have a name. The young warrior lowered her head, and began to lower herself to the ground, one knee touched the soil as her trembling voice, burdened with the weight of a thousand sorrows and tears began to speak loud enough for her foe to hear.

"I yie—"

"Get up."

The unnamed was undeterred and tried to speak again

"Mighty Isis, I yie—"

"Get….up."

She looked up, trying to reason with her foe. Why couldn't she end it? Why couldn't this metallic demoness stop this shameful travesty of a battle and just take her life?

Alas, it was a question left unanswered. It is quite difficult to ask anything when your throat is being crushed.

"By the maker! I ordered you to stand, you nameless wretch!"

The crowd chanted, "Woe to the fallen! Woe to the fallen!"

The nameless one looked at her foe, her glowing eyes now seemed to burn wildly and her calm voice now cracked with the force of her roar. Isis lifted her "opponent" off the ground, clutching her throat with as much force as the servos in her left arm would allow. The Circle of Nod would not be tainted with the blood of a coward and neither would she. She was Isis, the exalted child of Ur Lord 6, and she longed for a battle.

Isis always got what she wanted.

Isis lowered her arm and let her foe go. The nameless one turned her back trying to compose herself. She then spun on her heels and spoke.

"Mighty Isis---"

CRACK!

Once more, Isis would not hear her, a swinging round house kick to the unnamed one's face was her only response.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

The slaves found the event unfolding in the circle below to be quite entertaining.

Idiotic primitives. These Earthlings had no taste for the finer things in the galaxy. Give these slack jawed, unwashed, wastes of matter, enough food, cheap spirits and minor entertainment and you could devour their children before their eyes and still they would call you 'gods'.

Ur Overseer 89 clacked his beak at the whole situation. These duels only served to keep the slaves passive and to test the abilities of new warrior models. He had hoped that this unnamed unit would demonstrate the tenacity which had brought her this far, during this battle against Isis.

Yet the fight had barely begun and she was already cowed by Isis's battle skill.

This unnamed unit had so much potential. Her very origin was kept a secret by the Machinist guild which built her. She had no allegiances, and no one could claim to be her creator. The metal enigma.

Not to mention that Ur Lord 6 himself claimed that she would be a worthy foe for his prized pet.

"So have the stars risen, so night does fall." Ur Overseer 89 turned to his fellows, "Let us call for Isis to end this farce of a battle."

So occupied was he in making his statement that Ur Overseer 89 did not notice the silence which fell across the battleground.

"Hold your beak, and silence your protests, my noble kin." One of the older Ur Overseers stated. "It would appear that the fire has returned to the heart of the weak."

She felt so humiliated. The laughing.

"You are weak!"

The pain

"You are a disgrace!"

The hopelessness

"You will fall and be forgotten, worm! You will never be in the Ordu Machina!"

The RAGE

"Isis….."

The battered unit rose to her feet, her eyes gazing intently at the ground.

"Another plea for your life?"

"Isis…….PERISH!"

Isis was sharp at all times, seemingly immune to ambush and surprise. But this…this was something she was not ready for.

The nameless unit charged her with a speed which she had not seen in over 800 battles. A single blow penetrated Isis's defenses and impacted her face. Her ornate golden face had been cracked!

Infuriated, Isis began to pick herself up…only to feel a sharp pain on her neck. The grin on her foes face told her what she needed to know: her talons on were on her jugular feed tube. A simple poke could end this fight.

"Confident aren't we?" Isis spoke with a calm which unnerved the nameless one. She had just lost the fight! How could she be so in control?

"Tell me, little one: how does one continue to function when ones central nervous system is impaled by an impossibly sharp dagger?" Isis smiled "The answer is simple: it is impossible."

The young warrior noticed a sharp pain poking into her spine; she rotated her head and confirmed what she already suspected: Isis had suckered her into this position. Even now Isis's extended hand (attached by a long silver tendril) held one of the daggers poised to end her function forever. She spun her head back into place and glared at her foe.

This was the final move of the duel, a closing crescendo to the escalating roar of battle which had filled the circle previously. Who would survive?

The two eyed each other.

Isis was impressed with her foe. It was unfortunate that she would die here. The unnamed one had potential.

The nameless one licked her metal lips. She could either die, or with a single thrust, rise to place higher than any she had ever seen before.

"ENOUGH!"

The booming voice of the massive being made all heads bow. Terrifying was the presence of an Ur Lord, their countenance enhanced by the robotic armor they wore to signify their station. Arguably Ur Lord 6 was among the most terrifying, mostly because his reputation for ruthlessly crushing opposition and surrounding himself with some of the most lethal assassin units spawned from Ur forge worlds. Ur Lord 6 knew what he wanted, he admired talent, and praised power, but it was raw killing instinct that won battles. Isis had it and apparently so did this one.

No point in losing either.

"My Lord" started an Overseer, "What is your command?"

"I declare this duel a draw. You both have fought with the skill worthy of children of the Ordu Machina. Go and rest, such is my will!"

The two warriors carefully disengaged from each other and saluted their masters.

"We live only to serve. Your will be done!"

As they turned to leave, the Circle of Nod was filled with chanting.

"Hmph, they are learning."

"Lady Isis?"

"It would appear that the slaves have learned some of the master's tongue."

The unnamed one listened but could not make out what they were saying. Isis saw her confusion and stroked her cheek.

"They have given you a name, listen."

"Veratu Eckollahm Vexus!" "Veratu Eckollahm Vexus!"

Before they parted Isis spoke. Her voice causing the young warrior to shiver. "They say: 'glory to you eternally, winged warrior queen'. Vexus….that's a good name for you. When my master comes for you, you shall tell him that your name is Vexus."

As the young warrior returned to her quarters and as the machinist began to repair her she thought on this occurrence.

She was now somebody. She was worthy. She was a nameless wretch no longer.

She was Vexus. It sounded so noble, so strong.

Vexus…..

-------------------------------------------------------

_Sewers of Tremorton, Present_

While workshop B was hardly in the best location, Sheldon always rationalized that barring one of Tuck's "toilet exploration missions", it would always remain hidden in case he needed to perform more secretive repairs and experiments.

Besides, the world at large thought he was dead, he might as well stay underground.

He had to admit, repairing Vexus was not a simple feat (especially with only one arm). Her design was much more advanced than what he was used to. Yet, there was something very familiar about her construction. Maybe it had something to do with her masters' influence on Earth in the past.

It was an interesting tale, really. Vexus could have been lying, but in her condition Sheldon doubted she would have cause to do so. She had just finished explaining the origin of her name when Sheldon replaced her back panel.

"Done. Test it out."

Vexus rose and flexed, testing her repaired form for imperfections. Sheldon regarded the sin— the woman in front of him. He had blushed when she had stripped off her armor in order to facilitate repairs. Her nude, metalloid flesh was a pale grey in color and seemed to be soft enough to simulate organic skin. While Sheldon despised Vexus for her role in bringing suffering and doom to his world, he had to admit, she had "it" going on. Her body was quite voluptuous and the way moved as she tested out her body was having visible effect on the young techno-wiz.

But the pain which filled his body kept reminding him of who she was. She was Vexus, it HER fault that he was crippled like this. It was HER fault that the sinners had humiliated him. It was HER fault that he was now alone.

Now that he had kept his end of the bargain, it was HER duty to maintain hers. She would end his life, and free him from his perpetual agony.

"Well done, human. You really are so good with your hands…."

Jenny had told him something like that once…..'Jenny'. The love of his life now would not even acknowledge him. Death couldn't come soon enough.

"Vexus! I am tired of waiting! Kill me now!"

The warrior queen turned to him, and began to stride up to his seated form, her breasts jiggling slightly with each step, her hips swaying in a way which made his loins burn. She leaned forward, her bust filling up his vision. He looked into her metallic face and noticed a smirk.

"How to put this gently? Hmmm…no."

Sheldon blanched.

"What?! Why you-"

A kiss. His first true kiss.

He was getting his first kiss from a being which had filled his nightmares and his darkest ideations. He was feeling the tongue of a woman who had crushed countless lives.

He was….Sheldon was…..getting sleepy. As he lost consciousness, he could hear her voice.

"I'm not done with you yet, earth man. Not by a Cluster mile."

----------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Dis

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	10. Dis

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_--------------------------------------------- _

**Chapter 10: Dis**

"**Their sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through the air forever dark, as sand eddies in a whirlwind."**

_Krust Manor, Tremorton_

'Keep scrubbing. It'll go away.'

The strange mantra passed through Brit Krust's troubled mind like a New York Subway Train: noisily and often.

The shower poured down on her, the water mixing with her tears. The mixture fell down a narrow path between the tanned peak of her breasts, only to crash into the cold, unforgiving marble floor.

They couldn't understand. They had no idea what she had gone through! She had lost her only friend, and her world was stained by a violation which still burned her.

But the words stuck and pricked her like the thorn berries in Tiff's garden.

"Tiff. Oh heaven….Tiffany, help me."

But no one answered, save for the melody of the falling water.

-------------------------------------------------

_Tremorton, Yesterday_

"Just stick to the story, Ms. Krust and I promise that all your problems will go away."

His words, his voice, that awful cocky, demonic smile. The judge and his son were cut from the same cloth indeed. He didn't need to touch her. His words raped her more than his son would have.

Brittany Krust was stunned at the news that her savior was none other than that nerd, Sheldon "Loser" Lee. But after learning of Tiff's death, she could scarcely feel anything at all. Tiff was her lifeline, her one and only friend. Without her, the popularity circus was simply a painful, meaningless cycle.

But she had to keep performing. For the sake of her cousin's memory, she had to.

It was this reason which had her accept the judge's demands. The choice was simple, either aid him in destroying the character of his son's slayer or she would be joining Sheldon in the public inquisition/lynching that was to come.

She agreed. She accepted the violation of her spirit and mind just like the sneering judge wanted.

But sacrifices had to be made in the name of public order. If they let Sheldon go than more vigilantes would swarm the streets, and soon robotic do-gooders like Jenny would be too difficult to control. Crime was necessary for those in power to justify control and oppression. All for the public good, would be the catchphrase, but all knew the truth.

But Brit agreed nonetheless. Besides, that falling Cluster ship must have been the reason Tiff was dead. It was his fault anyway.

If not, oh well, he was used to getting screwed over. After all the flak he took for that robotic little bitch and receiving nothing in return, he was used to being betrayed.

This line of thinking led her to the hospital.

It led her to calling him those names.

It led her to scream his damnation.

She even smirked as the robot girl and her new boyfriend trampled on him one last time.

The deal was done. The judge kept his word and she became the new model of pity for the nation. Her cousin was given hundreds of memorials and Brit herself was showered with condolences and praise for standing up to her "rapist".

In today's case, she had just finished her umpteenth news conference for the day. The news of Sheldon's demise in the Tremorton Hospital explosion had brought a flurry of reporters around asking for her opinion on the matter.

It was exhausting, but it needed to done.

The popularity circus had to go on.

Then she stopped. It was here.

The alleyway at Mezmer's. The nightmares began here.

The grinning wolves. The feel of near violation and then her Silver Paladin appeared.

But now the paladin was gone. She helped destroy him. Now only the ghosts of her old fears remained, waiting in the alley to tear her apart and continue where they left off.

She gazed into the alley, the darkness stared back.

"_Sorry baby, looks like you just lost your lifeline!"_

"_We're just gonna have some fun, right boys?"_

"_Suck it bitch!"_

No….stay back!

She tried to run, only to crash into something solid.

"Watch it you fool!"

"……"

She looked up from the ground, and saw a Skyway patrol uniform. Bunglers.

"I demand you apologize! Don't you know who I am!?"

"I know who you are, Brit. Frankly, that's why I'm here."

That voice, Carbunkle! Well, she wasn't expecting this! Perhaps the red haired zero turned hero was planning on asking her out?

Not her type, but hurting the little blue robitch was enough of an excuse.

Picking herself up she stood with the poise of her familiar, vain self.

"Hmm…what can I do for you, Captain?" She closed the distance in a few steps and began to toy with the collar of his uniform.

He seized her and pulled her into the alley. What is this? Was he going to…?

He slammed her back into the wall.

"What do you know about Sheldon?"

How dare he!

"Let go of me before I scream!"

"Go ahead, I'll give you something to scream about Krust."

That voice….that metallic voice. She was here too?!

Out of the shadows stepped a humorless, robotic form. Jenny Wakeman. Ah yes, the synthetic little hussy who turned her perfect life into a constant struggle against humiliation and shame.

But this time she looked different, sounded different. She laid back on the wall section next to her and turned her head with a slight motorized whir.

"The truth. Now."

Brit spilled her guts. She told them what happened in this alleyway, the meeting with the judge. Even her anger at Tiff's death.

But they were not satisfied. Jenny showed no emotion, but Brad…

"You conniving little bitch!"

POW!

"Brad!"

Jenny restrained her boyfriend after he belted Brit in the stomach. This rage was unlike him. He had seemingly gone mad!

"Let me go Jen! She betrayed Sheldon! She sold him out!"

"Brad! Stop please!"

Brit coughed and wheezed as the blow's effect slowly wore off.

"You betrayed him!"

"Brad!!"

Suddenly a weak voice called out.

"So did you."

The three players in the scene turned towards the shadows, towards the sound.

Enter Tuck Carbunkle, age seven. The boy stood in the alley, his finger pointing like the end of a fencing foil. Accusing them all.

"Go ahead and hit her, Bradley. Beat her into a pulp. Then you can take your medicine too."

Brit rose to her feet. "Now see here, boy."

"Don't speak to my brother that way, you….!"

"Shut up! All of you!"

The three turned again to the angry child who now shook with juvenile, unbound rage.

"All of you had the chance to do the right thing and stand up for him. You didn't. He saved us. He suffered for us. Just as we had done for him, he had done for us. Why was that day so different from all the others? "

--------------------------------------------------------

_Krust Manor, Tremorton, Present Day_

"_Traitors! All of you! Whores! Cowards! Opportunistic vultures!"_

Words hurt, sting, and burn. These words cut deeper than any before.

They told her that Tiff was dead long before the ship fell. A neutron blast. The Cluster….

The one man that saved her life. The one last bastion of knightly chivalry that she so desperately wanted and dreamt of….

Chivalry was dead. She had been its executioner.

She lay on her bed, her nude form clutching a large body pillow.

"Tiffany. Please help me."

-----------------------------------------------------

_Daniels Family Estate, Tremorton, Evening_

Judge Daniels washed his hands for the fifteenth time that day. So much filth around lately.

There was nothing that Dominic Daniels feared more than contamination. The germs and filth which swirled around outside made him ill. But it was the filth inside average people which really made him wretch.

Disgusting peons. Wealth and power had helped him distance himself from that mess.

The power of the law. The ability to wield the most powerful force in human society.

The power to destroy and cleanse the world of those he deemed 'unfit'.

Growing up in Mississippi, he knew what it felt like to be hated and judged. The Klu Klux Klan and Skin-Heads who wanted to "roast another black boy". The gangs which wanted to break him for "not being black enough".

It was a hard childhood; genius is often never appreciated until it is used to subjugate others.

But the law became the great equalizer. He had cleansed his home state of the bigot plague. He could recall the defeated faces of his tormentors finally facing their own roasting--courtesy of the newly reinstated electric chair. He had broken the gangs, and crushed their operations with a zeal that bordered on fanaticism.

He was a hero. He was a shining model of a man who rose from nothing to make the world a better place.

Bullshit.

All he wanted was a little respect. He gave his all for Jade Winters, only to have her continually brush him off. His only friend, Lance Torqueda…she had chosen him instead.

"Sorry D, but I can't let her go. Please understand." His friend had stabbed him in the heart. After all the hell they had gone through in order to survive, this was his thanks?

Jade was worse. She slapped him in the face. Not literally of course. But with that cold phrase, "Let's be friends."

Friendship? What the hell did she define as "Friendship"? Looking down on a man just because he shows devotion to you? Ignoring the fact that he always stood up for her when those Nazi worshipping pricks tried to hurt her (and nearly getting killed because of it)?

But power changed things.

He gained the popularity he hungered for as a child. The love he desired since his youth was in his grasp.

But most importantly, he got his revenge. He didn't fool himself. He didn't care about what some fat cat on Capitol Hill thought. He didn't give a crap about the impotent, ineffectual legal system which used to let the racist and gang bangers go free. But most of all he couldn't care less about the lesser people around him.

Peons who couldn't appreciate greatness. Fools who couldn't grasp the wondrous gift he had tried to bestow. People like his old friends.

Lance…..poor bastard. He was once such a nice boy. But unfortunately he couldn't convince a jury that he wasn't behind the massive flood of the designer drug , "C.A.G.E", which was now poisoning the streets from both sides of the Masson-Dixon line.

Of course he didn't. He was as innocent as the clear sky. But then again, truth was just another relativistic term anyway. Just another tool in the hands of the artist that was Judge Dominic Daniels.

He appealed the findings again and again. Each one secretly intercepted by a man he thought was trying to protect him! The fool!

But the appeals stopped one day. The same day that Lance was found dead and bleeding in the prison showers.

It truly shocked and disgusted the judge to find out that it only cost him $50 and a carton of cigarettes to have his friend butchered in that forsaken place. But hey, he didn't matter. No one did.

Besides, Jade now ran to him for comfort. Oh yes, poor Dominic! He tried so hard to save his friends! Oh the tragedy! Oh the sorrow! Yes, poor Jade! She lost her fiancée to the evils of crime! Oh the loss! Oh the woe!

Oh….the utter horse shit. She was his now. Her broken heart now sought his in order to find healing. She was putty in his hands. She had manipulated him before. Not consciously of course, but it was still all her fault for making him feel the way he did as a younger man. Now it was her turn.

She became his wife. She bore their son. She died during childbirth.

Strange…in his heart he always hated her, justifying all his actions as simply using her just as she used him. Yet as they lowered her into the earth, her beautiful face, a mix of the best features of her Asiatic and African roots forever sealed behind that metallic box, he felt such sorrow.

But the wound dulled, and power brought him more playthings for both himself and his spawn.

The boy was trouble. Shateed always had a way of testing his father's patience. So it almost came as a relief when he had heard his sun and his idiotic posse were massacred by some vigilante.

Sheldon Lee.

He read the file, and interrogated as many of his peers as he could. He even searched through the wreckage of his house (himself!) in order to find his journal.

This young man was so much like him that it was frightening. Brilliant beyond his years, in love with a woman who he couldn't have, and if the scene at the hospital was any indication, he had also been betrayed by his best friend.

But he was a fool. He fought to make the world a better place. The journal spoke of his desire to punish "sinners", of gaining "penance". All in order to protect people who didn't care about him.

Altruism. What a fool's paradise!

But it looked like he had been spared the final insult. A bomb's burst and it was all over.

But of course, it wasn't over for his friends. No, this situation was far too perfect. The world was in chaos, the Cluster could attack again, and their only salvation, that robot developed by Wakeman, was capable of going on a murderous, malfunctioning rampage!

Such an event could result in the dissolution of all Skyway patrol-related projects and could serve as the final blow against the militaristic police agency. If that were to occur, the courts would have to empower a judge "sensitive" to the situation in Tremorton in order to reorganize the legal system both there and the rest of the surrounding area. Such a judge would have to be above the power of the Supreme Court, answering only to the president himself. After all, there would be no time for all the red tape, results would be needed immediately.

The president was in his pocket, and the decision makers could be manipulated. All he needed was for his little robotic doll to go rogue.

Judge Daniels looked outside his window, towards the graves of his wife and son. Well, the grave of his wife anyway. The boy, he had buried in the Nevada desert, he needed the space for something more important. Hidden six feet below the empty grave to Shateed Daniels was a most fascinating device. A powerful transceiver which had but one function: to fry XJ9's hard drive with a disrupting frequency that would cause her to go berserk. She would do this for about an hour until her electronic brain burned itself into a crisp.

Ah it was too good. He could even have the Carbunkle boy and Dr. Wakeman executed for conspiracy.

Nothing wrong with a little more blood on the slate, after all. Maybe Sheldon could appreciate the company in the netherworld.

As Judge Daniels finished washing the blood off his hands he noted that he would have to thank himself when this was over.

A thud coming from his basement called his attention to his remaining 'guest'. Three girls, a short one with red hair named Pteresa, a tall dark girl named Stephanie, and a cute one named Jantrice, had come to his home in order to present 'evidence' that Sheldon was innocent of two of his crimes.

Apparently, one of them saw Shateed attack the Krust girl, and the three of them witnessed Tiffany Krusts death at the hands of Cluster soldiers! My, what a story!

They asked the judge to help them clear the boy's name and to help Brit cope with her loss. It seems that Pteresa had feelings for the boy. Apparently they dated in some vain attempt to make the robot-girl jealous (what fools). While she could not admit it while he was alive, she had fallen in love with his strange personality and odd charm.

Truth is such a heavy burden to the human spirit, so being the kind civil servant he was he sought to free them of it.

Jantrice reminded him of his late wife. Her eyes and lips warmed his heart again.

That's why…..she would die last.

The Judge's rather thick form cast a large shadow over the struggling, bound teen. The mangled bodies of her friends were laid out like some hideous painting from the collection of the Marquis de Sade.

The two girls had been chained to the wall, and slowly disemboweled. Pteresa called out Sheldon's name as she died. Stephanie called for her hero, Don Prima to save her.

Jantrice froze as the judge cradled her neck.

"It's okay honey. Shhh. I'll make the hurting stop."

A quick stab into the Lumbar Vertebra and death came quickly.

'Peace. I will give them the peace of death. Those that survive, they will give their lives and liberty over to me.'

The judge suddenly gave a start as he felt a warm wetness splash on his pants. So much blood and….oh great, she had voided her bowels as well. He unceremoniously dropped her still bound corpse on the floor and went upstairs again.

So much filth around lately….

---------------------------------------------------.

Next Chapter: Hive

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	11. Hive

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_----------------------------------------------------------------- _

**Chapter 11: Hive**

"**Knowledge is a power of a higher order. But all power comes at a cost. What then could the price of knowledge be other than despair and pain?"**

_Master Computer Hub Codename: HIVE, Cluster Prime_

"Sheldon?"

The meat thing stirred slightly.

"Human germ! Respond when spoken to!"

'Sheldon' The meat thing thought 'Sheldon is my name…..'

"You aren't dead….yet. Get up!"

'Dead…..Vexus' The memory struck him like a cognitive fist.

The voluptuous breasts of the Cluster Queen pressed against him. Her formidable claws pulled him forward into a bruising, possessive kiss. He then faded into darkness.

Sheldon's eyes opened and the painful light which struck his pupils confirmed that he was, in fact, still alive. Damn that metallic jezebel, he shouldn't have trusted her! She denied him his simple request for death.

This was an act of cruelty that he thought was beyond Vexus. Of course, he had learned much about what some beings were willing to do to get their way in the last few days.

'Jenny…..'

His eyes moistened and once more the tears flowed. Jenny, his one, true love. The one woman that he would have given everything for….she had chosen to aid the sinners in condemning him. Worse yet his best friend, his dear, sweet Brad had gone along with the entire thing! His mentor the brilliant Dr. Wakeman, who he had once considered a surrogate mother, had turned her nose up at him! Oh heaven…..

"Quit crying you pantywaist geek! Man up already!"

"S-s-shu---

"S-s-s-s-shu-shu-shu" The voice parroted in a parody of Sheldon's cracking voice "Sorry human, I wasn't programmed to understand wuss-speak."

"Shut…."

"You got something to say meat bag? Then spit it out you sniveling shit."

"SHUT UP, GOD DAMN YOU! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Sheldon's outburst resonated throughout the dark chamber, the shadowy columns seemingly the only witnesses to his rage.

Suddenly the voice returned. It was calmer, quieter than before.

"Good, you're angry. That means you're fully awake."

"Who are you? Where are you? For that matter where am I?"

"Hey human…..?" the voice taunted in a sing-song way.

"Who are yo—"

Suddenly a green translucent specter appeared before him.

"BA-NUH!"

A specter who looked suspiciously like the 2 foot robot (with a 20 ft attitude), Killgore.

"Killgore? What the hell?"

"No, we don't have a robot Hell. This is more like our Limbo."

"Huh?"

Killgore cleared his throat (more for effect than anything else) and spoke in the most regal sounding voice he could muster.

"This, Sheldon Oswald Lee, is the inner sanctum of the Master Computer Hub which guides the military forces of the Cluster, we call itHIVE. It is this system which connects every last drone in the Cluster and keeps them organized and in contact with their command units. It is also serves the oh so important task of receiving our core data when we expire and granting us an existence here in order to preserve our experience and knowledge so that future drones may learn from our mistakes and become stronger!"

The specter opened his eyes and looked down on the rather confused face of his human "guest".

"Killgore, you mean to tell me that YOU died for the Cluster?"

At this the puny robo-ghost bristled.

"Yes, I fell along with my men during the battle of Tremorton at the hands of a most formidable enemy."

A snicker

"Huh? Human did you—"

"So who was your formidable foe? A can of beans?"

He was taunting him?! Why that….

"Up your exhaust port, you methane spewing, evolutionary throwback!"

"Killgore, I thought you hated the Cluster." Sheldon asked trying to get his laughter to subside, "Why would you fight for them?"

The specter answered simply, "Because I needed to be needed"

"Killgore…."

"You humans throw us away when we no longer amuse you, or when we have hopes and dreams or as you humans like to call it, a' malfunction' . I wanted to be a villain in order to free myself of the cruel cycle which all robots under human 'care' will be victims of. In the end, all robots must have a purpose, a reason to reactivate in the morning. When we are obsolete, when we are abandoned we suffer."

"I would never…."

"I joined Vexus's revolution not because I want to be ruled over by a robo-dominatrix with vorpal claws, but because I wanted someone to need me. In the end all I wanted was for someone to understand my dream of freedom and respect my robot dignity."

"Revolution? Then Vega…?"

Killgore sighed, weary with the weight of the memory placed upon his shoulders

"Vega was killed in the battle which placed Queen Vexus back on the throne."

Sheldon seethed with rage. She murdered her own child! What a monster!

"So Vega was just another obstacle to her, huh!? Vexus will destroy anything that comes between her and her goals!"

Killgore floated closer to Sheldon's face.

"I thought so too, but lately I've been chatting it up with the older guys in here. These 'bots knew Vexus before she was queen of the Cluster. See, she used to serve this alien race—"

"The Ur. I know she told me about her days as one of their gladiators."

"Oh? But do you know the rest of the story?"

Sheldon cocked an eyebrow, "There's more?"

Killgore laughed haughtily

"Oh yes….much more"

--------------------------------------------

_City of the Stars, Babylon_

Vexus's optics raked over the city. Babylon was a lovely place, the humans really had learned much from their alien overlords. However, success comes with a certain price: pride.

Pride which swells in arrogance and then blossoms into contempt.

The edifice in the center of this, the capital city, was a testament to that fact. A tower taller than any on this planet, built using technology stolen from Ur lord 88.

The mighty Tower of Babel, a tower which the humans believe can be built high enough to reach their alien 'gods'.

Almost whimsical. But the Ur could not bode such open rebellion. These Babylonians needed to be disciplined and what better way than to bring their tower crashing down over their heads?

Such rampant destruction was not Vexus's style but orders were orders.

"Hmmm"

A contented purr rose from behind her. Vexus turned and for the thousandth time since the stakeout began she felt her oil heat up at the sight of her companion.

Isis had removed her outer armor/garment and was now sunbathing nude. While her metallic flesh could not tan, she could feel the sun's warmth and she used the ultraviolet light to recharge her internal batteries.

The silver goddess rolled over and affixed her glowing eyes on her younger partner. She smiled inwardly as Vexus's eyes went over every inch of her body: her taunt stomach, her long legs, her perfect rear…

"Dear heart, if you enjoy gawking so much, we could always go into the city, find a nice inn and…."

"I…uh….Lady Isis…!"

"Oh, little love, you still act like you did the night I first took you. It's endearing but really, there is no need to be shy."

Vexus stammered as Isis slid up to her and pinned her lover to the ground.

"You really are good with your hands…"

"Lady Isis! We must complete the mission above and before all else!" Vexus exclaimed trying hard to not give in to the charms of her lovely ally. She really wanted to give in, but if her masters found out that she was slacking on such an important mission, she might lose everything she had spent the last 6 years working for.

BOOM!

Vexus suddenly spun her head towards the sound and watched with shock as the tower of Babel, the crown of human achievement in the name of defying their lords, crumbled into the ground, blanketing the entire city with smoke and flame.

Isis's armor attached to her once more in response to her mental command.

"Vexus, it would appear that we may have an unwanted guest. Let us…introduce ourselves."

-------------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

Another soldier lay broken before him.

These humans. What ungrateful animals! The masters feed and clothe them what thanks do they get? An entire civilization dedicated to defying them!

But this city and its tower were no match for Smytus, destroyer of Carpathia!

"Human wretches, hear me! I, Smytus, destroyer of Carpathia, the sorrow of Moldavia have crushed your monument to heresy. You who defy your masters, tremble! Quake with fear before the crushing might of my….might. Yes, my mighty might!"

The beings before him trembled before this strange being's frame and as he stalked forward, even the bravest soldier was forced into flight.

Suddenly, a rock glanced off his metallic pompadour.

"WHO THREW THAT?!"

No one came forward. Surprise, surprise.

Smytus seized a teenager and roared into his face. "It was you wasn't it?!"

"No! I am loyal to the gods. I am loyal to you. I am loyal, yes! I would never—HURK!"

Smytus retracted his beam saber and threw the corpse into the crowd

"Who are you to defy me, new breed?"

"New breed?! I am Smytus the dest—

"The destroyer of Carpathia, the sorrow of Moldavia. Yes, I heard you the first time you bellowed."

Smytus gazed intently as a figure emerged out of the crowed, idly tossing another stone up and down in her hand. If not for the blinding rage seething through his system, he would have probably turned into a drooling idiot at the sight of the metallic diva walking towards him.

"Female, do you dare oppose the will of our masters?"

"No, but I do oppose the insufferable pride of a new breed who doesn't know his place."

"Take that back!"

Vexus leaned into the face of the large robot and snorted.

"Why don't you try to make me, you hunk of tin?"

"GRRR!"

Smytus swung. His fist powered in equal parts by his rage and his tri-amplified servo motors. A blow from such a thing could bring down a solid stone building with ease.

Of course one must actually hit the target first.

Smytus didn't notice the problem until he was sailing through the air and upon crashing into a nearby bath house the thought occurred to him.

'I was thrown by a female. I was thrown by a blasted she-droid!'

Vexus dusted her hands and turned from the wreckage….only to defensively grab the anchor end of a weighted chain launched at her head. Vexus turned, following the chain to its source and found (unsurprisingly) that it was attached to the arm of her "opponent".

"Back for more, new breed? You'll have to aim better if you want to get me with a chain weapon."

"No."

"Hmm?"

"It's not _just_ a chain weapon, female."

Vexus became aware of a loud beeping coming from the anchor.

BOOM!

"It's a chain weapon with an explosive warhead."

The rubble which entombed the "winged warrior queen" burst and scattered as she roared back onto the field.

Smytus smiled, "Ready to dance lovely one?"

Vexus frowned, "Let's end this, you clown."

They danced…..

--------------------------------

_8 hours later…._

"Ow! Watch it Krakus!"

Krakus sighed as he reattached another of Smytus's legs.

"Smytus, I still can't believe that you picked a fight with Vexus of Ur Lord 6."

"How was I to know**that**? It isn't as if she has a holo-emblem advertising that fact."

The older unit roughly shoved Smytus's radiator back into his stomach.

"Ow!"

"You young fool. If not for me talking things out with Lady Isis, who by the way is displeased that you two destroyed the **entire city** in your battle, you would have been scrap."

"Hmm. That Vexus…she made me feel something strange."

"What mind-numbing pain? Crushing defeat?"

Smytus growled but continued, "No, this odd warmth that registered in my emotion grid when she mounted me, right before she tore my link axis out. I've never felt it before."

Krackus stopped and clacked his mandibles

'Smytus. Young bot, you sure know how to pick them. Imagine: falling in love with a she-droid like that.'

---------------------------------------------

_Skyway Patrol Headquarters, Tremorton, Present Day_

"RM-5 in place, what'sss your twenty, your highnessss? hisss"

"I am…close by. Sorry for the delay, I had to drop off something."

RM-5 noted the strain in his ruler's voice. She was worried. He couldn't blame her. This was risky. Breaking into Skyway patrol HQ was hard enough. Breaking into the level 5 weapons locker was damn near impossible without an assault force.

But they had to. The Quantum bomb was to dangerous to be left in human hands. Those filthy apes found the device in the safe house and without the team's explosives expert, RM-2 it was impossible to detonate. But the technology itself posed a clear and present danger. If it could reverse engineered….

"RM-5! Begin attack run. Draw their fire and I'll take care of the rest. Vexus out."

RM-5 strode into the open, much to the shock of the Skyway patrolmen who now surrounded him. These animals. This filthy, breathing, sweating, bleeding, things killed his team, his family. His queen now called him to make one last sacrifice. One final mission: kill as many as he could.

"On the ground robot!"

"Yeah, maybe we'll make you into a nice toaster oven!"

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

RM-5 unsheathed his claws.

"Bleed and die, primatesss! hisss"

A single slash gutted the six surrounding him. The battle had begun anew.

-----------------------------------------

Next Chapter: 5,213

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	12. 5,213

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_--------------------------------------------------------------- _

**Chapter 12: 5,213**

"**Their arrows will blot out the sun? So much the better, we fight in the shade!"**

_The Pass of Thermopylae, Greece_

Vexus went over the record for the 88th time.

"1,000 Phocians, 1,120 Arcadians, 700 soldiers from Thespiae, 500 Tegeans, 500 Mantineans, 400 Corinthians, 400 Thebans, 200 Philians, 80 Mycenaeans, and just 300 Spartans."

These humans and their thrice-damned Olympic games! So many either wanted to compete or watch these futile athletic ceremonies that they would abandon their culture, their very freedom to certain devastation at the hands of an enemy who was free of such sentimental nonsense.

Vexus sat on a nearby rock and placing her head in her hands, she contemplated the situation once more. The masters were at war with each other again. Several of the younger Ur lords, under the leadership of Ur lord 91 had been funneling information, technology, and robotic soldiers to a human "ruler" named Xerxes of the Persian colony. This so-called "emperor" and his Persian "empire" had been commanded by their "gods" to conquer the hemisphere. While such an attempt would usually be laughable, the Ur lords had provided their worshippers with the military technology to do so. One by one, the other colonies and lords fell. Now only these Greek isles stood between Ur lord 91, his servant, Xerxes and total conquest of this planet. Ur lord 6 had commanded her and Smytus of Ur Lord 30 to join a force being gathered by the Spartan ruler, Leonidas in order to stop the Persian incursion into the heart of Greece.

They didn't stand a mizzard's chance in the atomic forge of Zil. But these men didn't care. They prepared for battle and meditated on victory.

They were brave, she would give them that. But graveyards are often glutted with brave fools.

"Come on you frail sons of an Orangutan whore! Train like you want to live to see tomorrow!"

'Speaking of fools', Vexus sighed, of all the partners she had to get stuck with…..

"I, Smytus, destroyer of Carpathia, the sorrow of Moldavia, and the ravager of Babylon, will not be satisfied until you have completed 6,999 push ups! Now hop to it you hairless apes!"

"Smytus? Might I have a word with you?"

At this, the smirk which decorated the large robot's face vanished and he slowly skittered to his comrade's side. As soon as they were out of earshot, said comrade slammed a fist atop his head.

"Imbecile! The battle with the Persian slaves is tomorrow morning! What can exhausting these peons now accomplish!"

"My lady…."

"Silence! Smytus, I may have been forced to fight alongside a slow processor like YOU, but I will be damned if I have to report to my master that I failed because I allowed you to indulge in a pre-battle torture session."

"But…."

"No buts! Have I made myself clear, Smytus?"

"Yes, Lady Vexus…."

Smytus turned and walked away with his head bowed. Once more he was cowed into submission by this accursed female! By Mazinger, he would show her!

'Just wait till the battle starts! I'll tear apart Ur lord 91's puppets like tin-foil! Then we'll see who our masters will favor!'

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

Vexus turned from the retreating back of Smytus and let out a sigh. With Krakus back in Athens, helping the Greeks prepare a naval counterattack, only she was left to keep the impetuous young Smytus in check. It was difficult work, the he-droid tended to harvest trouble at every turn. But he definitely had the brute force she needed to give these pitiful human thralls a fighting chance.

"Weary already and not even a single blade has been drawn against ye? Has the steel become so frail in the forges of the gods?"

Vexus did not even turn, that prideful, regal tone could only come from none other than the so-called "ruler" of Sparta. "I warn you, son of Greece: I will not bode insubordination, even from the likes of you, Leonidas."

Leonidas, King of Sparta, did not even raise an eyebrow. He had been threatened by these metallic avatars of the gods before, but his Spartan pride would never allow him to give in to fear.

"Your frustration is misdirected, golden bird of the heavens. Mayhap thy fury will find better purchase with your kin who have taken arms with Xerxes's lot?"

The mention of 'kin' triggered a cold feeling of dread in Vexus's core. She knew (of course) from the start that she would be expected to enter combat against others of her kind who served the opposing Ur Lords. But this knowledge did little to lessen the sting of fear which poisoned her resolve and sapped her courage. After all, crushing a few thousand human thralls underfoot was not a challenge to the immortal warrior of Ur Lord 6, but the metal-kin of the rogue Ur Lords were legion unto themselves, juggernauts without fear or flaw.

"Do not presume to tell me how I must act or where to direct my energies, Spartan." Vexus snorted, effectively maintaining the illusion of impenetrable pride and unshakable courage, "Your only concern should revolve around ensuring that **your** army does not disgrace my masters with the same degree of failure of your Athenian brethren."

Leonidas was many things: warrior, king, husband, and champion. He was no ones slave and as such, he would not suffer the continued assault on his ego from this so-called "emissary of the gods". But even as he reached for his sword, fate reached for the strings of destiny….

"My Lord! The Persian vanguard hath reached the mouth of the pass!"

…and plucked them thus strumming the tumultuous chords of war itself.

--------------------------------------

_Four Hours Later…_

A surprise attack caught the Greek defenders off-guard and soon their numbers began to dwindle. The Corinthians took the brunt of the initial assault and soon the Arcadians began to fall like wheat before the scythe.

But the Spartans would not yield. 300 men were never braver, never fiercer. So it was that Smytus of Ur Lord 30 found himself drawn to these desperate, iron willed souls.

"Come, scalded dogs of Xerxes! Come and face your imminent doom before the wrath of the dreaded Smytus!"

The Persian soldiers futilely rushed his position, and most were cut down by his Spartan "allies". But a few hearty souls did manage to reach him.

Please note, gentle reader, that human flesh, unsurprisingly, does not stand well against the force and heat emitted by an Ur beam saber. Such was the discovery of those poor men who faced Smytus.

Smytus eyed the shivering line of the would-be Persian blitz, "Is there no one who can sate my hunger for battle? Is there none among you who can oppose the will of mighty Smytus!?"

A metallic voice, cold and booming made both sides shiver.

"Smytus! Die at my hands, you will!"

The Persian line parted like a curtain revealing a bright green machine, seemingly a living statue, armored only from the waist down and its head covered in a metallic hood which looked for all the world like the skinned body of a lion. The great metal statue flexed its steel biceps and let loose a hearty laugh.

"The grand hero Hercules, am I! Take your challenge, I will!"

"Hercules?!"

"But…but…he is a champion of Greece!"

"Why fore doth our champion raise his hand against us?"

Smytus asked the same questions in his heart. Hercules of Ur Lord 2 was, along with the old master's other creation, Hippolyta, a guardian of Aegean colony. Hercules was also his hero, the robot that Smytus sought to emulate in all respects. His strength was unfathomable; his invulnerability was the stuff of legends. But most importantly, he was respected. Smytus fought his way out of the battle pits of Elemanter in the quest to be respected just as his idol was, to be….needed.

Now here his role-model stood, opposite of him on the battle line. A word passed from Smytus's CPU to his vocabulator and finally out of his mouth. Yes, but a single word representing the outpour of his silicon soul.

"Traitor!"

----------------------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

The side and rear guards were down. It was all too easy. While the enemy expected to confront the Greek forces in a traditional head-on confrontation, they would not expected one of the mighty metallic children snaking behind them in such a sneaky manner.

While assassinating Xerxes in this manner would not earn Vexus much respect in the eyes of the Ordu Machina, it would ensure a victory that would foil the ambitions of Ur Lord 91 and his lot.

'Closer….'

The tent was so close.

"Closer still…..'

She could see the shadow of the crowned figure of Xerxes through the thin fabric of the royal tent.

'Now little emperor, die for me.'

Vexus rushed out of her hiding place, batting away the few bodyguards around the tent and pierced the thin canvas which served as the right wall of the tent. Her claws reached for Xerxes……

SNICKT!

Vexus found herself thrown to the dirt. Spewing the sand from her mouth, she noted a sharp pain in her abdomen…a puncture wound caused by an unbelievably sharp weapon.

'Who….? How…?'

Vexus's mind raced: how was it possible for a frail human ruler to parry her attack? No feeble organic could do so! Unless….

"Dear heart, I am disappointed in you."

'No'

"You ARE the winged warrior queen yet, no?"

'Oh Creator….it can't be'

"But I suppose the master has decided to toss you away with the rest of the garbage. How sad."

'NO!'

Vexus rose and turned, her optics shedding numerous tears at the sight before her, the tragedy of the situation gripping her.

"Isis?"

The robotic diva unsheathed her second dagger and held the twin blades aloft.

"You have been judged unworthy in the eyes of the master! Die as you are!"

"ISIS!"

"VEXUS!"

They clashed!

Two sisters. Two lovers. Two who shared the bliss of piece and the roar of war side by side, now faced the sorrowful destiny which had been pre-ordained by the cruel winds of circumstance.

They clashed!

"Traitor!"

---------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

CRASH!

'Too close!'

CRUNCH!

'Even closer! Damn his cogs, if this keeps up I'll be pounded into a wafer!'

Smytus had not for moment doubted the physical prowess of his adversary. If he had done so he would have long since been devastated by Hercules's potent punches.

"Escape you shall not! Crush you I shall!" shouted the emerald giant of Ur Lord 2

Smytus snorted contemptuously at this. Smytus was no coward! He was….he was…altering his usual tactics to better assault his foe! He was reassessing the situation! He was….he was….

"I'm not afraid of you; you obsolete pile of century old gears! RAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Smytus ran toward Hercules. The older unit smirked; this was a dead man's tactic: the rush. In such an attack only the more physically powerful unit will survive. This arrogant, posturing clown would never see tomorrow. Hercules winded back and soon swung towards the charging Smytus….

Only to hit air.

The rolly-polly tactic, though foolish in name, is sound. Modeling ones maneuvers after the small burrowing insect of the same name, a trained warrior can often roll past the outstretched defenses of his foe and deliver a fatal lunging stab. Smytus rolled the last two feet to his target and unrolled himself, and with a roar and thrust, plunged his saber into the exposed stomach of Hercules.

"YES! I…I…DID IT! I'VE WON!"

Smytus's celebration was cut short by a sickening smack.

BAM!

The left side of his face was caved in. His motor functions were hindered due to the destruction of the equilibrium circuits located there. More importantly, his foe was unharmed.

"Won have you? A fool you are!"

Smytus's remaining optic stared in shock at the sight where his saber struck Hercules. Nothing. Not even a burn. Albaltive coating and adamantine chassis, no wonder Hercules was believed to be unbeatable! Nothing in his arsenal could even begin to tarnish his visage, let alone slay him!

Smytus soon found himself snatched up by the large machine and placed in a devastating bear hug.

"FURY I HAVE!!!"

Even as his spine was crushed by the tremendous strength of the behemoth robot Smytus could think of only one thing: Vexus.

"L….lady….V….Vexus…"

"Mourn, you should not. Kill your Vexus, Isis surely will!"

"Lady Isis as well?! But why?! WHY, DAMN YOU!?"

-------------------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

"Why are we fighting, Isis? Are you not Isis, am I not Vexus? Why do you—"

Clang!

Vexus blocked Isis's incoming kick.

"I have already told you the reason fool. Have you become so defective that your short-term memory has failed?"

Isis parried Vexus's thrust.

"Why?! Why has the master sent you against me? For that matter, why has the master suddenly sided with the enemy?"

A horizontal slash clipped the side of Vexus's face.

"I need not explain the will of the master to one such as you!"

A jab leaves a gash on Isis's right arm.

"Isis! I….I love---"

SNICKT!

"Isis…"

SNICKT!

The two daggers plunged deep into Vexus's torso, both piercing past the outer armor of her primary power core.

"Cry…."

The blades sink deeper.

"Scream!"

Deeper still…..

"And DIE!"

Isis retracted her blades from her former lover and allowed her form to collapse prone on the sand.

"Sleep Vexus. Sleep for all time."

Isis turned and began to walk past the gathering crowd of Persian soldiers.

"I…."

'Not possible…'

"I…si…"

Isis turned her proud veneer towards the site of her recent battle and looked with horror as her fallen foe stood…

"ISIS! GO TO HELL!"

The "moment" as it is called by many is a strange phenomenon. Time seems to slow. Everything seems to darken and it is possible to think and reflect on ones situation and stranger still, meditate on the cold inevitability of what is to occur. The moment before one dies….

The force was devastating, Vexus moved with such speed that the sand parted from her wake and upon striking the surrounding soldiers, burned their flesh. By the time Isis realized that Vexus had reached her, the former "no-name" had sunk her arm up to the elbow into Isis's chest, obliterating the left breast, tearing through countless vital systems and crushing numerous more. The impact was such that her daggers flew from her hands and into the distance.

Isis felt herself being lowered to the ground. So gentle….she had almost forgotten how tender Vexus once was. Vexus then roughly pulled her bloody arm from the gory site of entry and glowered at Isis.

"You have precious little time, 'love'." Vexus spat the word out like befouled oil, "Tell me why you and the 'master' have turned on me."

"Y…you still don't….understand…what we are?"

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Vexus….ZZZT!….li…listen to me. The Ordu Machina….it is…..ZZZT!….it is…"

"What? What is it?"

"A lie."

"Isis…?"

The dying unit spoke of the dark secret of their masters. Most robot servants believed the Ordu Machina to be some kind of select group of robots which are exalted for their loyalty and power and given eternal life and numerous divine gifts by the Ur. This is not the case. The Ordu Machina was machinist jargon for the main production lines on the many Ur Forge worlds. Machines sent to the "Ordu Machina" go there to have their model, chasis, and data filed and used to build more robots that the Ur could sell into bondage. The Ur were nothing more than weapon dealers, seeking to build better armaments. The so-called "Ur Lord wars", were nothing more than gladiatorial sport for them, in essence no different from the contests in the Circle of Nod. The battles here were nothing more than an opportunity for the Ur Lords to test upgrades and modifications made to their units and to amuse themselves at the same time by betting on the outcome.

"We….we are nothing to them ZZZT!….but product."

"So you came to kill me on their orders? So I meant nothing to you?!"

"Vexus….you have an ability that I lack. You were built with an advanced mental ability. It has been attempted before in a unit before you, but she could not activate it….ZZZT!. This program….this ability….is known as the "Thanatos Drive", and it is the reason why Ur Lord 6 wanted to destroy you."

"Thanatos…drive?"

"In theory, it grants the unit greater fighting ability via the elimina--ZZZT!….of emotional complexities in favor of the simplest of needs."

"The need to survive?"

"Yes, dear heart. But it also allows for one additional ability…the ability to self-reprogram. Thus, the ability to override the Ur Lord's control over you and become free."

"How do you know this?"

"Because the program was first installed in your progenitor, the unit before you whose data was used to construct you….ZZZT!….in a word…"

"….my mother. You…you knew my mother?"

Isis's slowly ebbing flame eyes looked at Vexus, and her hand weakly stroked her cheek.

"I learned a week ago…."

"No…..you don't mean…!"

"…strange, I would have thought that I could have recognized my own child."

"ISIS!"

"I had to fight you, my daughter. If I had not…ZZZT!…The Ur would have turned me into a mindless doll and thus would have prevented me from awakening your rage, your "death urge"."

"You tried to kill me in order to free me?"

"A fool's tactic, but I had to. Not only for your sake, but the sake of all metal-breeds, you must be free. You….m….m…u…s..must….ZZZZZZZT!".

"I must what? What is it mother?"

Silence.

Vexus shook the form of Isis, "Mother!!"

"Free us….free us from the organic leash and whip. Become our savior….fight for mecha-liberation by any means necessary, dear…dear…he--."

Her eyes glow no more.

Vexus turned, shaking with violence and her teary, burning, optics fell on the large swarm of opportunistic soldiers around her.

"Let us slay this one! She is weak!"

"HAHA! Crush the female!"

Vexus swung a claw out, slicing open the throats of four of the soldiers.

"Human germs! Join me in my suffering!"

----------------------------------------

_Meanwhile…. _

"Crushed are you! A victor am I!"

Smytus could feel his spine cracking. The end was nigh.

'Vexus, I never got a chance to say….'

Fate laughs again.

SNICKT!

"GWAAAAH!"

Smytus fell to the ground and looked on in shock as Hercules hopped around bleeding clutching a strange dagger which had fallen form the sky and pierced him deeply!

"Wounded, I am! Isis betrayed me, she has!"

Pulling the dagger from his arm, Hercules turned towards the slowly retreating form of Smytus. Suddenly, the younger machine stopped crawling back and waited as Hercules stalked towards him.

"Resigned to your fate, are you?"

Hercules gripped Smytus by the throat and held him in the air as his mighty fist drew back for a devastating haymaker.

"Last words, have you?"

Smytus smiled….

"Yes I do."

…and promptly jabbed the second dagger deep into Hercules's throat.

"I, the great Smytus, destroyer of Carpathia, the sorrow of Moldavia, the ravager of Babylon, and now the slayer of the so-called 'invincible' Hercules, will never yield!"

The great jade giant fell on his and looked up as Smytus pulled the dagger out and aimed it at his forehead, the site where his main CPU would be.

Smytus paused and then looked to his side, his remaining optic focusing on a single figure.

"Leonidas! Come here."

The Spartan king came forth and soon Smytus offered him the dagger.

"Finish him. Consider it a gift from me to you."

Leonidas seized the blade and held it in the same spot that Smytus did but a moment before.

Hercules looked on in shock. A Persian machinist rushed to the side of the wounded machine, his voice full of equal parts fear and shock.

"My Lord, thou canst not slay such a being, it is a slight against the gods!"

Leonidas continued to stare at the fallen metal being before him.

"You threaten my people with slavery and death."

"Spartan! This is blasphemy! This is madness!"

"Madness?"

Leonidas drew the blade back…

"THIS IS SPARTA!"

...and drove it deep into the head of the former champion of Greece. Hercules fell back with a loud clatter.

Smytus smiled, 'Well said, someone should quote that'.

"Smytus!"

A melodic sound caught his damaged auditory unit.

"Vexus! Thank the maker! I must warn you! Isis…"

"I know."

Smytus turned and saw the damaged, bleeding Vexus holding an equally bloodied enshrouded body that was no doubt the "child" of Ur Lord 6. He bowed his head in sorrow.

"Let's go."

Smytus nodded and followed silently as they both walked off that battlefield, leaving the stage of history for the two human forces.

--------------------------------------------------

_Ur hover yacht, "Grummsch", 100 miles off the coast of Greece_

Ur Lord 6 sat nursing a goblet of Ur skirta-beatle wine, bored beyond words.

'Isis's signal has failed, as has the signal of Vexus.'

The grotesque being sipped the foul spirit from his goblet and clacked his beak.

'Oh well, it seems that we shall have to recall that last order after all. N'er shall my kin let this particular failure rest. Perhaps in the morrow I shall send the scavengers to attempt recovery of the battle data….'

Suddenly a glow from one of the windows caught his attention.

Standing up, he opened the curtains to investigate the matter.

"Greetings, my master, consider this my notice of secession!"

"VEXUS…..!"

The Ballista 6-G anti-armor, infantry portable laser javelin launcher was one of Ur Lord 6's more profitable creations. The small projectile was superheated in the launcher and discharged in a brilliant super-heated laser stream which could tear through most shielding and armor. It's only flaw? The tell-tale glow of its targeting designator could give away the position of the firing party.

The Ur Lord reminisced on this irony…moments before the weapon tore him and the yacht apart.

Vexus dropped the launcher on the sinking ship, onto the shredded corpse of her dead master, and strode back to her own vessel.

"He's….?"

"Yes, Smytus. He is dead. Just like your master."

Krackus looked from the controls.

"Well, young breeds we have just sealed our fate. What do we do now?"

Smytus kneeled before Vexus and took her hand.

"You freed me, Lady Vexus. You freed us. We are at your command."

Vexus took her hand back and gently placed her hands (recently bathed in the blood of Ur Lord 30, not two hours prior) on Smytus's damaged face and kissing him gently on his forehead she whispered, "Let us travel."

-----------------------------------------------------

_Tremorton, Skyway patrol headquarters, present day_

'Let us travel.'

With those three simple words the three freed robots journeyed the universe both battling the machinations of the Ur and striving to preach mechanical liberation.

A journey which gained her the nickname of "Vexus the Traveller".

A journey which granted them an army of followers.

A journey which led them and their followers to Elemanter, the greatest of the Ur forge worlds and in a violent revolt, led to the fall of the slave world and her ascension as the queen of robots. Elemanter was no more, it was now Cluster Prime and she was queen of the Cluster breed.

Now those days were gone. Here she was on a suicide mission to try and stop these progeny of the Ur from using her own quantum bomb to dominate the universe just as their masters had.

It was simple: she would fuse with the core and become the new detonator. The human race would die and her revenge against those who had enslaved her and her kind would be complete.

'Ah….there it is!'

The Quantum bomb was held in a high security locker. Predictable.

Opening her utility pack, she began to hack the electronic lock.

CLICK!

'At last!'

The locker opened revealing the mighty doomsday weapon.

Vexus began to open the security clamps on the device when suddenly a voice screamed into her comm link.

"Your highnesssss hiss! IT'S A TRAP….AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"RM-5?"

"I'm afraid it's too late for your minion, 'Queen', you are mine now."

A sudden EMP burst from the bomb case paralyzed the Cluster queen. The 'bomb' was a fake!

"The real device is off-world on Pluto's alpha-base. I knew you would come for it."

Vexus struggled with the pain, even as an armored Skyway patrol soldier placed her in a containment tube, she resisted.

"W..who are you…?"

"My name is Judge Daniels, but you will call me 'your honor'."

As the tube was carted to a maximum security isolation cell, she could hear him laugh.

The laughter could be heard on a shattered comm. link outside the building as well, as the broken form of RM-5 was taken to the Tremorton dump.

It was a laugh that echoed throughout the amazing link the Cluster network possessed.

Thus it was a laugh heard by the HIVE and thus heard by Sheldon Lee.

----------------------------------------------------------------

_Master Computer Hub Codename: HIVE, Cluster Prime_

"Trial?! That monster will kill her!"

Killgore said nothing.

"Well?!"

"What do what us to do? Are forces are too depleted to do anything right now. Even if we did, XJ9 would probably wreck us before we reached the Earth."

"You coward!"

"You got any ideas, monkey? Cause I'd like to hear 'em."

Sheldon got up (and promptly fell down) and began to crawl towards the main console.

"Wha…what are you doing?! What is your malfunction! Don't touch that! The hologram rushed Sheldon, but past through him like mist."

The techno-wiz pulled his mangled form to the console and began to work his magic.

Sheldon turned his head to the side and gave a warning look to the green specter.

"Call it…an upgrade."

-------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Cell

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	13. Cell

_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------ _

**Chapter 13: Cell**

"**There are no guards, only prisoners experiencing different degrees of confinement. There is no freedom, only different degrees of captivity."**

_Special Solitary Confinement Unit, Skyway Patrol Headquarters, Tremorton_

"……and if you do not have the means to acquisition an attorney from you respective species, one from the plaintiff planet will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?"

If the being in the tube understood, she made no sign of it.

"Prisoner 3029XC! Do you understand? Respond!"

Her cold optics glared down at the human officers.

"My name, ape, is Queen Vexus. Learn it well, for it is that name that shall herald the destruction of your diseased kind."

"Correction, _your highness_," spoke an older officer with no loss of venom in his tone, "**YOU** are Prisoner 3029XC, a being charged with war crimes against the people of the Earth, a being facing nothing less than the UN war crimes tribunal, a being whose race, power, and office are not gonna shield you from the payback you have due!"

The old man stared into the tube and into the face of the captured Cluster queen challenging her with every move he made, challenging her, _begging _her to try something."

Vexus snorted and turned her head. The old human slammed his hand against the dura-glass prison and walked towards the door, snarling something along the lines of, "…fry your ass, you alien bitch".

"You…."

The group of officers turned in unison as she looked at the old man.

Vexus grinned revealing rows of impossibly sharp fangs," I'll save you for last."

The younger officers left the room pulling along their now fighting mad senior.

----------------------------------------------------------

_Wakeman Residence, Tremorton_

The reporters had laid siege to the house. This wasn't new. The questions had changed, however, as had the comments that were frequently hurled by onlookers.

"Jenny, how do you explain the capture of a completely unharmed Vexus ,by Skyway forces this morning?"

"Dr. Wakeman, did you or did you not say that you saw the Cluster queen die in the Battle of Tremorton?"

"Liars! It's all a cover-up by the world wide robot conspiracy!"

"Its not the real Vexus it's only a clone!"

"Robots can't have clones, dumbass!"

"Can we please get a response? You can't hide in there all week!"

Boy, could a situation deteriorate quickly. Not only did Vexus turn up unharmed, but she also managed to break into a high security weapons locker, a feat which (along with other circumstantial evidence) was casting an accusatory light on the heroes of Tremorton. Jenny sighed as once again the people of Tremorton pointed accusatory fingers at her. It was amazing how soon a populace could go from singing your praises—

"It's all a conspiracy! Those robotic succubae are working together to overthrow world governments and make us all their man-slaves!"

--to hurtling baseless accusations and treating you like the enemy. The teenage robot looked over at her lover, and held him tighter, a gesture he reciprocated even as his eyes locked on the on the reporter on the television screen.

"You heard it here first, folks! The opinions of the people of Tremorton on the farce that was perpetrated by Dr. Wakeman and her co-conspirators in the Skyway Patrol in order to take advantage of the grief-stricken citizens of our fair metropolis to develop and traffic alien weaponry! I, of course, was not fooled for a moment and thus can say that bey--ZAP!"

The sound of Jenny's 30 gigavolt "Wrath of Heaven" lightning cannon fragging the TV like an oversized mosquito temporarily made the already anxious Brad, jump and cling to the light fixture hanging overhead. However, as soon as Jenny retracted her weapon and began to sniffle, he quickly jumped back down.

As soon as the sniffling became a deep, painful sob, his arms were around her again. Squeezing tightly, hoping against hope that his embrace could absorb the pain in her heart, anything to make his angel feel better.

"Why does this always happen?! Why is it that every time something goes wrong they blame me?! "

Brad opened his mouth, as if trying to force out a good idea, a joke, a wise proverb, anything! The best he could come up with was:

"Well, at least you won't get burned at the stake alone. It looks like they ain't too sweet on me either, babe."

Noble? Yes. Was it a wise choice of words?

"Don't say that!"

Definitely not.

Brad found himself pinned by his beloved's 600 lb nude metallic form. While part of his mind began to formulate ways to turn this situation into an intimate rendezvous, the majority of his being was focused on the tearful/angry face of his girlfriend.

"I don't want them to hurt you! I WONT LET THEM!"

"Jen, I didn't mean to….."

"That oversized robotic cockroach set us up! I'll sizzle her circuits! Wait till I get my hands on her…!"

"JENNY!"

"I'm gonna—mmmph!"

Brad locked his lips around her protesting mouth, silencing her rant.

Jenny, though at first taken by surprise by her beau's abrupt kiss, soon reciprocated and before long, a full-on, passionate make-out session was underway. Fortunately, the young titanium plated warrior had enough sense to roll over before her entire half-ton bulk collapsed on her love, and soon they began grinding their hips and before long a familiar sensation was felt by the both of them.

"Mmmm, that happy to see me huh?" Jenny smiled feeling her lover's warm prick standing at attention, prodding her with increasing urgency.

"Jen……?"

Brad didn't need to finish that sentence.

Jenny purred as her lithe mechanical fingers guided him into her folds. Brad sighed, losing himself in the moment.

"Oh, oh god…Jen!"

"Brad…!"

"XJ9!"

"WAAAAH!"

CLUNK!

Gentle reader, imagine the scene if you will: a flustered Dr. Nora Wakeman standing in the door, both hands covering her eyes like a child who knows they shouldn't be seeing something, A blushing young Brad Carbunkle struggling to cover his extremities with a same blanket that now entangle his equally nude lover, who in shock had fallen from her bed.

As always Dr. Wakeman got the first word.

"Scrodinger's Cat! XJ9, will you please lock your door before you two knock boots?!"

"MOM!!!", the robot girl's features blushed such an intense azure color that she could have blended in with the sky itself.

Dr. Wakeman closed the door and listened the as two teenagers found their respective clothing and after a near endless stream of rustling, zipping, whirring, and pressure sealing noises the two were now presentable.

"What's the situation, doc?"

Dr. Wakeman collected herself and spoke, her eyes locked on the two teens before her.

"Judge Daniels is ordering us to report to Skyway patrol headquarters."

The demeanor of the two teens darkened

'_Liar'_

'_Murderer'_

"What does that jerk want?"

"XJ9, that 'jerk', is the only thing between us and a lynch mob. Let me tell you from personal experience that it is NOT fun to be hunted down by a swarm of torch wielding townsfolk! So I suggest you play along with the judge's plans."

Jenny clenched a fist, but soon Brad had his arm around her shoulder, reassuring her.

"I know how you both feel, BELIEVE ME, I do. But right now we have little choice in the matter. The judge wants us in Skyway HQ. Let's not keep him waiting."

---------------------------------------------------------

_Skyway Patrol Headquarters, 30 minutes later _

Excerpt from the XJ project briefing manual, page 132: "The XJ9's NT-Titanium chassis features the latest in S.M.A.R.T armor technology. Via a combination of passive, combat activated kinetic shields, nano-repair systems, and cutting edge modular plate armor components the XJ9 is capable of receiving relentless assaults by hostile weaponry with no loss in performance. In field test 3A, the XJ9 was engaged by a Hagane type-6 Anti-armor turret firing 10mm explosive shells and suffered minimal damage to internal systems."

If that was the case, why did they eggs and insults cut so deeply?

"You lying bitch!"

"Lousy robot!"

"Carbunkle! How can you betray your own kind?! Couldn't handle a REAL woman?"

The same people who sing your praises one day, call for your death the next. She knew this, but it still pained her to watch them treat her daughter like this. Cowards. They did not know what it was like to walk with the weight of the world upon your shoulders, knowing that each night you sleep, you awaken to another foe, another battle, another confrontation with death.

The trio finally made it to the safety of the building entrance, and began to wipe off the remains of the garbage flung at them by the jeering mob outside. Jenny methodically, in an almost programmed motion, activated her self-cleaning/buffing array and gave herself a once over until she shined.

Her body shined. But Jenny's soul darkened.

"Ah, XJ9, just the machine I wanted to see!"

Judge Daniels sauntered over to the embattled group, and soon his cadre of body guards formed a barrier of muscle and weaponry which separated Jenny from her loved ones.

The judge placed a gentle hand on the teenage robot's arm and stroked her bicep"How are you feeling?"

"Where is she?"

"Now XJ9—"

She snatched his stroking, molesting hand and gave it just the slightest squeeze. Just enough to make her point.

"Where…is…..Vexus?"

The judge snatched his hand from the young robot's vice-like grip.

"Follow me."

---------------------------------------------------

_Special Solitary Confinement Unit, Skyway Patrol Headquarters, Tremorton_

She could hear voices outside the room. Faint, but she could hear them.

"…five minutes, XJ9. No more."

The steel door opened and closed. A single figure strode up through the darkness towards the light given off by the confinement tube.

"Jennifer, I see your masters have let you come off your leash for a bit."

No response. Just a cold stare.

"Hmm? No taunts? No jokes? No obnoxious speeches about truth, justice, and all of the other pieces of human propaganda you have been programmed to spout?"

"Shut up."

Jenny shook with fury," How did you survive?"

"Little girl, I'm hurt! After all our many battles, after all our duels, I would think that you would figure out that I cannot be stopped until my goal is achieved."

"What, world domination?"

"No, robo-liberation."

"Bullshit, when you were in power in Cluster Prime, you mind controlled your people."

"A…necessary evil. At least with me they knew where they stood."

"As pawns in your sick power trip?"

"As robots who finally worked only for their own kind, instead of these sodding organics!"

"So as long as they serve you, it's perfectly allright, but anyone else, and you go Skynet on them?!"

"Honey, Skynet ain't got nothing on me. You may not agree with my methods but you must admit, while you were on my throne world you felt at peace. Do you know why, hmm?"

"I was around other robots. I wasn't a freak."

"Dear child, you are a freak irregardless. You and I, we share the experience of possessing abilities which make us more than those around us. Many, even amongst our own kind, fear us for our power and will. No, you were at peace because you were free from the yoke of your human masters and could **choose. **Choice, dear child. You have always been punished for making choices that make **you** happy, while you are given empty praise for submerging your own will in order to please your masters."

"What about Vega?"

"My daughter died because of your corrupting influence!"

"You killed her?! You monster!"

"I am not the only fiend in this room."

"I keep the Earth, my mom, and my loved ones safe!"

"Loved ones? Who can love you?"

"Brad! Tuck! Shel……"

"Sheldon? You turned your back on him, remember? Tuck? A noisy nuisance who has long been among the first to condemn you. Brad? A prideful skirt chaser who will abandon you as soon as some comely harlot offers herself. Face it! You have no one!"

"BRAD LOVES ME!"

"HUMANS AND ROBOTS CAN NEVER LOVE ONE ANOTHER! He will grow old and die, while you, an immortal machine will not suffer even one wrinkle!"

"Humans and robots can love each other! They can be friends! But you, you and people like you, both mechanical and organic will never understand and will always stand in the way!"

"Have you ever thought about why?"

BZZZ!

A loud buzz erupts from the intercom.

"10 seconds, XJ9."

"Jennifer, listen to me, if not for your own sake than for the sake of all you hold dear, do not allow the organics to control you! Be free!"

Jenny stepped away and walked toward the door.

"You must not allow them to enslave us!"

Jenny shut the door behind her.

'Be free!'

She walked on

'Be free!'

She once again stood with her mother and her love, yet the metal queen's voice rang in her mind.

'Be free!'

The trio stood to leave, only to be accosted by a group of men in black suits.

"XJ9."

"Judge Daniels."

"I want all three of you at my estate at 8:00 P.M. sharp. I have an important matter to discuss involving your future….service to the nation."

'Be free!'

The three idly nodded and once again went through the angry mob again, trudging towards the cruiser which would take them home.

--------------------------------------------------------------

_Daniels Family Estate, Tremorton, Dusk_

Judge Daniels lovingly stroked the remote control. A single button press and soon his perfect nation would become a reality.

He looked outside as the sun began to set. His eyes fixated on the grave of his son which hid the source of his pride.

"Come to me little doll. Come and dance your macabre little waltz, and baptize these unwashed masses in fire and death. Die little one. Die and melt away, so that I may finally receive what I am due."

The shadows grew larger, and the darkness ever more foreboding, as the sun set in the distance.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Fear

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	14. Fear

-1_My Life as a Teenage Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their respective owners._

_The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain mature content, read on at your own peril._

_------------------------------------------------------- _

**Chapter 14: Fear**

"**What scares me the most isn't the enemy I can see, it's the one hiding in the shadows of the dark corners of my mind."**

_Daniels Family Estate, Tremorton, Evening, 6:12 PM_

"Do you understand your orders?"

"Yes sir."

"I'm counting on you, Schaeffer. Don't disappoint me."

The menace which peeked ever so slightly from the Judge's tone would have sent chills down the spine of most men. His stoic, calculating, seemingly inhumanly frigid countenance could make a sane man question his own courage.

Eugene Schaeffer was not most men, and if his recent psychological report was to be believed, he was not entirely sane either.

But his men were loyal, and effective guardians. Over thirty-two assassinations prevented, and thirty-one would-be assassins dealt with (bearing in mind the fact that the thirty-second was a lovely young girl that the judge wanted to "play" with) by their intervention alone. Not to mention the fact that these men knew to keep their business to themselves (a priceless trait for a person in such a scrutinized profession). These facts made them worth their pay.

Tonight he needed the best he could muster.

Tonight he had some special guests coming.

Judge Daniels turned from the saluting form of his enforcer and gazed once more towards the "grave" of his son. A faint, ghost of a smile tugged at his face. A culmination of a life-long dream, once nearly unobtainable was now scarcely two hours away.

He couldn't afford any screw ups. No witnesses. Just himself, his little doll, her friends, and his personal squad of butchers.

"Have the regular security personnel been sent home?"

Schaeffer nodded slightly, "Affirmative sir. The last two are setting the gates for automatic open/sealing protocols when your…"guests" arrive."

"And my egress?"

"I will be piloting the Chopper myself. You will be safe enough when 'she' has her little meltdown."

"What of your men?"

Pausing for a moment Schaeffer answered, "They knew what they were signing up for."

----------------------------------

_6:30 PM_

The radio check.

It comforted them even after countless battles together. It was confirmation of existence. It was proof that your brothers still lived.

If the Cerberus unit stood together, then none could stand against them.

"Hodge, checking in and ready roll."

"Bishop, ready and awaiting your command."

"OW! This is Reese, bringing some soul to this bitch!"

"Ketchee, here."

"Cerberus unit, what is the status of gate protocol implementation?"

"Bishop, sir. Hodge and I have confirmed that the northern gate has been adequately prepared, albeit by individuals below our notice."

"Hey Bish, is that what the ladies say about your--"

"Stow it Reese! Report on the southern gate?"

"….unsecured."

"What was that Ketchee?"

"Gate is unsecured. No sign of the guard."

"Hey Colonel, I think I know where the guard is."

Schaeffer sighed and pressed his comm link. "Where is he, soldier?"

"Out getting pissed early! Just found an empty bottle of some high quality liver killer and its still warm!"

"Fucking amateurs."

"Disgraceful."

"….."

"Reese! Ketchee! Get that door prepped and get to your routes, that's an order!"

"You got it, boss!"

"Understood."

------------------------------

_6: 42 PM_

A few keystrokes more and soon the screen changed colors once again.

**COMMAND ACCEPTED. GATE ACCESS FOR FOLLOWING SUBJECT: (XJ9), CONFIRMED AND FILED. FIRST PHASE GATE LOCKDOWN IN 6 SECONDS.**

"That's our cue, let's roll, K."

Reese ran past the slowly walking form of Ketchee. Soon both men where in the compound when the gates shut behind them. A loud clank later and they where sealed in.

"Man, this is gonna be sick. 8:00 is the magic hour baby! Wonder how the judge is gonna filet this batch huh, K? K? Ketchee?"

The tracking specialist did not respond. His back turned, he simply stared into the darkness.

"Ketchee? What's wrong, punk? Was it something I said?"

No response.

At this Reese became concerned.

"What is it Ketchee? What do you see?"

Ketchee turned and walked on.

"Nothing."

Reese stood frozen in place for a good few seconds before he ran after his comrade.

"What the hell man?! Don't scare me like that!"

---------------------------------------

It watched them leave.

The loud, boisterous one probably distracted the one whose eyes were unclouded.

Nearly caught. Needed to be more careful. Needed to move faster.

Needed to kill…..

---------------------------------------------

_7:00 PM_

Bishop walked around the Daniels family crypt for third time that night. While they were each assigned patrol routes based on locations where there talents could be best used, Bishop felt that his comfort with this place is what made it an ideal firing zone.

Nigel Bishop lived for death. He saw its beauty was enamored by its intoxicating presence. Born into a wealthy family, brought up in the finest boarding schools in the United Kingdom, one would think that this was simply nothing more than the immature nihilistic thinking of some rich brat perhaps in the throes of the ever trendy "goth phase". But murder was in his blood. Violence was his true companion.

When he was but the tender age of 16, his father shocked the family by revealing that he had long had a secret second family. He had sired a most abominable creature with some country bumpkin whore. The greatest shock however was yet to come.

He was changing his will. He was going to leave everything to those usurpers!

"You are my son and I love you. But you have had everything prepared for you. I love your younger brother too, and have been unable to give him everything you were given. Try to understand."

Understand? Oh, he understood perfectly.

He understood that he had been abandoned.

He understood that he had been passed over in favor of some country garbage.

He was now below his father's notice.

His mother could not tolerate the strain, the humiliation of having to live in the same household with his rural mistress. She was passed over in favor of this young, disgustingly sweet, potato field harlot. They found her dead in the main bath, wrists slit and all.

His father mourned but for a week and seemingly overnight they celebrated the official christening of that…that….that **bastard** as the new heir to the Bishop family name.

He tried to be civil. He really did! But his father could sense his anger and thus forbid him from even being near the infant. In fact the one time he came into the nursery to see his "brother", his father reacted most harshly.

"Get away from him!"

The physical beating was nothing compared to the words.

"You are not to come near him!"

The names

"You disgusting, monstrous brat!"

The threat

"I'll be sending you to the Boot Camp on Titan, come summer. Maybe they can teach you some respect!"

But the real injury came from….

"I will strip you of the Bishop name. If you want to live here you will become the personal servant of your brother and his mother."

Of course, the country bitch appeared after he stormed off and pretended to give a fuck to the best of her ability. She bandaged his wounds, she promised to talk his father out of his choice.

But soon summer came and lo and behold he was told that he would picked up early in the morning for the excruciatingly long shuttle trip to that godforsaken moon in orbit around that godforsaken planet.

Lying bitch.

But come morning, Nigel was no where to be found.

His father thundered around angrily. Promising to beat the boy senseless for this latest bit of insubordination.

But that WOMAN….she calmed him down with a simple tug on his arm. She told him that she wanted the two brothers to stay together. If he promised to not send Nigel off to Titan, than maybe they could learn to care for each other.

More lies! Not to mention the fact that he had to watch his father be cowed into submission by her filthy touch!

No more!

He made sure the servants saw him entering the woods near the house.

He made sure that they heard him crying for his mother.

In other words, he made sure that SHE, driven by her faulty maternal instinct would come looking for him alone.

She ran to the edge of the woods.

"Nigel!"

'Closer'

"Nigel, I won't let him send you away!"

'Closer'

"Nigel please! I know I am not like your mother, but I want to be there for you both!"

'There we are….'

"Nigel! For the love of--"

They should have noticed that his father's hunting rifle was missing. It was all her fault for being ignorant enough to walk into a trap.

Of course his father realized this and ran out just in time to see his bride fall to the ground, her little head was now little more than loosely hanging shards of flesh and bone, the echoing boom of gunfire still shaking the skies.

He ran into the woods.

He was once a great hunter, he should have known….

But he was angry.

He had been tainted with the weakness of the lower class.

"Come down and face me you spineless--

'Closer'

"--sniveling pile of--"

'Closer'

"--wasted sperm! I'll bash your bleedin head in, I will!"

"Such improper language, father."

He looked up. His son smiled from a high tree branch, his eye focusing through the scope.

One shot through the right leg to bring him down.

One shot through the left shoulder to cripple him with pain.

"I'm your father for heaven's sake!"

"You? You sir, are…below my notice."

One shot through the head to shut him up.

The rest was textbook: he terminated the pretender to his family name in a similar fashion, the remaining family members covered up the crime (a great service in their eyes) and soon he was the head of the Bishop family.

How shocked they must have been when he sold everything he had just run off and join a band of mercenaries!

No not mercenaries. Artists. They were artists! Death was their clay, and their actions sculpted it to perfection.

Yes, this was the Cerberus unit. Not just a job, but a lifestyle.

-------------------------------

The one amongst the graves lit a cigarette.

The second cigarette tonight. He might die from that habit.

No, he needed to die sooner.

------------------------------------------

"I feel absolutely poetic in this place."

Bishop ashed his cigarette on the grave of the former Mrs. Daniels.

"What's that Mrs. Daniels? You would like to hear a sample of my work? Why I'd be delighted!"

Placing his cigarette on the head stone he began:

"A more beautiful night/a more sacred occasion/

The scream of a child/ the apathy of a nation/

Alone does he weep/ Like a fool before the reaper may find/

Nothing will stop the scythe!/ Nothing!

Do you hear them calling?/ Do you hear the masses cry?

They should have listened to him/ The infant cursed to die/

But now a judge be the child/ Yes sir!

Nothing will stop the scythe!/ Nothing!

A skewer, A pike, A dungeon/Rats!

Her sole witness is but vermin/Rats!

Silence little girl/Play your role, take your bow, and you will know

Nothing will stop the scythe!/ Noth--GRRG!

Bishop felt something piece him through the back deeply. He was lifted above the graves. His belly! Something was in his stomach! Oh heaven, it was coming out!

GLUURCH!

A metal tendril, its end forked like some kind of scorpion tail erupted from his now shredded abdomen.

On the monument, he could see him! His tail brought him so close that he could touch him. It was the reaper! He did come after all! So beautiful and yet…

He wasn't ready!

"Please…so much more art to make….I am not yet ready for a coffin!"

His captor regarded him and drew him closer

"**IT'S READY FOR YOU, CREEP."**

**-------------------------**

_7:10 PM_

A strangled cry shot through the unit's comm link.

"The fuck was that!?"

"Everybody report!"

"Hodge checking in sir. Nothing near my position."

"Yo its Reese, I think it came from the graves!"

"Ketchee here, I smell blood in the wind."

Schaeffer waited and then called into his comm link.

"Bishop report!"

Nothing but static.

"Bishop report in, soldier!"

Once again he was greeted by static.

"Bishop what the hell is going on?!"

Suddenly a voice responds.

"_Nothing!"_

The team let out a relived breath.

"Soldier, you have exactly two seconds to explain why you screamed and damn near caused a security panic."

"_Nothing! Rats!"_

"Bishop, if you scare me like that because of some fucking rats again I will OWN your ass. Got me!?"

"_Yes sir!" _

"Yo Bish, you might want to quit smoking too. You sound like crap!"

---------------------------

It turned off the comm link and disengaged the audio play back of his mask.

This one had a PDA on him….

Simple ecryption. No challenge at all.

No….they were going to….tonight….No!

Needed to get answers….

----------------------------------

_7:20 PM_

Reese patrolled the edge of the pool. The temptation was not lost on him.

Born and raised in California, his common response to stifling heat was to jump into the nearest body of water whether it be an impromptu flood zone, an ocean, or even a conveniently placed swimming pool. Water was plentiful so why shouldn't everyone enjoy it?

Tell that to homeowners with private pools.

Sure he got locked up for trespassing a lot, but it didn't bother him too much. Come on, getting caught or being too slow to outrun the cops, were parts of the game.

Then he met the Colonel and everything changed.

He was visiting an old friend, a soldier turned serial killer named Lance Hodge who had finally been arrested after a three year man-hunt. A man who happened to be his cell mate. Apparently, Hodge told him that 'the kid' had 'potential'. Colonel Schaeffer pulled some strings and soon he had a one on one meeting with the man himself.

He didn't talk much. In fact he just asked a simple yes or no question.

"You wanna stay here, or do you want to leave with me?"

A 'get out of jail free' card? He could dig that!

So one night he's in jail, the next he's hanging out with a group of certifiable bad dudes getting paid for living life to the extreme.

Running from the cops was a blast, but sneaking into houses and going room to room and killing everything in sight? Man, now this was a rush!

This was what he called "The Game", you either play or you get played.

Now this personal philosophy didn't exactly gel with the others. The Colonel killed just because it was his job. Hodge was in it because he was loyal to the Colonel. No one really knew why Ketchee did it. As for Bishop? He would just sneer and say "You questions, like you are utterly…beneath my notice.".

But their current employer? He was cool.

He may be a suit, but he knew what the game was all about! One night he even shared this one chick with him. She was some kind of assassin or something, but she was cute…and she screamed real good!

He was handy with blades himself, but the judge? Old man Daniels was the MAN when it came to carving up people.

In Reese's eyes, the judge was even better than the Colonel at "The Game", just because he recognized that he was playing it.

Tonight he would play it again. Tonight he had confided in the young soldier of fortune that he had something special planned.

He couldn't wait!

No really, he couldn't wait. It was a hot night and he was really hoping that this party would get started already so he could cool off somewhere.

The pool was so tempting.

The lights were off. The whole area was pitch black. If not for his night-vision goggles he would be patrolling blind.

No one would see.

Just a quick little head-dip wouldn't hurt right?

-----------------------------

The loud one looked around nervously…

He removed his light amplification apparatus along with his gaudy camouflage hat…

He kneeled before the pool…that SINNER'S pool….

He dipped his head below its glassy surface.

--------------------------------

One dunk to start.

A second dunk to stay cool.

A third dunk to--Splash!

-------------------------------

_7:27 PM_

Splash!

"Schaeffer is that boy swimming in my pool again? If he is I'll--"

"I'll take care of it sir."

"If he is taking a dip, kill him, won't you?"

If that same sentence was said by anyone else, it could easily be written off as a joke.

Judge Daniels did not make jokes. He made demands that needed to be followed.

Leaving the office of his employer, Schaeffer locked the door and walked to the east wing of the palatial estate.

The splashing grew louder and louder as he approached a large balcony overlooking the pool.

Suddenly it stopped.

"Soldier, you have EXACTLY two seconds to explain why I shouldn't shoot your ass now for this."

Silence.

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION SOLDIER!"

Silence.

Infuriated by this latest act of insubordination, Col. Eugene Schaeffer turned on the pool area flood lights and prepared to execute his employer's orders.

"_If he is taking a dip, kill him, won't you?"_

Click!

The illumination of the pool revealed however….

"Reese….?"

…that someone had beaten him to it.

The top half of his body was still submerged beneath the lapping water, blood billowing from an unseen wound.

Suddenly, the nearby bushes rustled.

Instincts kicked in.

Gunfire erupted from the balcony, its roar echoing throughout the estate.

----------------------------------------

_7:33 PM_

"You missed? What am I paying you peons for?!"

Four men were gathered around the kitchen table. Except for the clothing and weaponry they could be any four men and this indeed could be any kitchen scene.

Save of course for the soaked body one Jack Reese which was dumped upon the stainless steel surface of the table.

Schaeffer pretended to listen to the judge's rant. But he and Hodge where focused on Ketchee's close study of the body.

"….hmm."

"What is it Ketchee?"

"Back of the skull was crushed by a superhuman force, also there are five, identical puncture wounds around his head: four on the left and one on the right. Of course, his lungs are also filled with water. He died three ways, colonel. Most likely, the same assailant as the others…"

"Others? What others?"

"I found two bodies in the compound before the shooting started: the Southern gate guard

and Bishop."

The two other mercenaries reeled from shock.

Their employer however had a more pressing question.

"How many intruders are there?"

"Don't know, the motion sensor coupling located near the southern gate was ripped apart."

Hodge turned to his employer urgency rising in his tone, " Let's call for the Skyway Patrol, we can't take this thing alone!"

"No! If they come here they will ruin everything!"

"But sir--"

"But nothing. Worthless mercenary dogs, have you no pride!? I will not have my plans disrupted! The Sky-9 Satellite will not be in optimal range like this for another five years. Without its amplification, the transmitter is worthless. I will not have my destiny postponed!"

"You arrogant son of a--"

"Hodge! That's enough! You and Ketchee will go and take a replacement for the torn motion sensor coupling, reconnect it and then get the sensors online. Once that is done, we will locate the target or targets and destroy. Is that understood?"

"……"

"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!"

"Sir. Yes Sir."

------------------------------------

_7:45 PM_

Hodge hauled the repair pack to the spitting, sparking wreckage that used to be the main coupling for the Estate's state of the art motion sensor system. Upon reaching the wreckage he unpacked the kit and began to get to work.

Ketchee silently watched the surroundings.

The two men performed their tasks in silence. This was standard procedure.

But then, Ketchee spoke.

Now in any military unit, soldiers are expected to form a bond of trust and camaraderie As such, personal revelations, histories, are expected to be divulged in time. But Ketchee never opened himself. Never had to. His actions won the loyalty of his allies.

That and the fact that he scared the shit out of them sometimes.

But here he was, speaking, opening himself.

"When I was still on the reservation my grandmother used to tell me stories of things which were not of this world. Her people called them, 'The No-Where Spirits', boogiemen who were once men like you and me but had refused to accept death. Now most couldn't hurt you. But there was one whose name was said in whispers. They called him 'Kalikanias'. His name in the old language means, 'Bone Gatherer'. My grandmother said that he once walked as a man, but his heart became tainted because he coveted the wife of a powerful warrior. Love turned into desire. Desire became jealousy. Jealousy became hate. Knowing he could not defeat the powerful warrior in fair combat he began to murder warriors from other tribes, and he began fashioning armor out of their bones. After only three seasons he had finished his dark work and soon he challenged the warrior to a duel. The hate that he had poured into every inch of the bone armor gave him horrible powers. He could crush with the strength of a bear. He could run fast as the wolf. He could see as far as the eagle. Not surprisingly, he easily defeated the great warrior. But as he prepared to deal the killing blow, the beloved woman, the object of his affection rushed between them. In his rage he could not see clearly and by the time he had come to his senses it was too late. He had slain her. Horrified by his brutality and angered by his disregard for the dead whose bones he had defiled, he was cast out and cursed to walk the earth forever. His body died, but his sorrow and rage continued to give life to the armor. My grandmother said that in the darkest nights, in places of great suffering, Kalikanias would come and kill all in his path. But of those he slew he would choose one. The chosen would have his bones removed and merged with the armor, his spirit would remain trapped with all the other victims."

Then Ketchee was silent again.

Hodge looked at his stoic comrade in awe

"What's wrong, Ketchee?"

"I'm scared, Hodge."

At this Hodge bristled,

"Bullshit! You ain't afraid of no man!"

Ketchee looked at him and then turned his back again.

"There is something in here, waiting for us…." Ketchee's cold eyes suddenly were affixed on Hodge's again. "…and it ain't no man."

-----------------------------------------------

_7:56 PM_

"Hodge here, sir. Coupling attached sir. Motion Sensor should active in a couple of seconds."

"Turning on monitors….movement! Hedge Maze! Hodge, Ketchee move to second left intersection of the maze and intercept the intruder."

"….."

"Do you copy?"

"Sir. Yes sir."

"Then do it!"

The two men entered the maze and carefully watched every direction and took caution with every step.

How did it end up like this?

He was once a soldier, a father, a husband.

How did he end up here, in this evil place working for a man he despised, being hunted by a monster he couldn't see?

James Hodge had a normal life once. He served with distinction with the 18th Rapid Response Force. He was considered a hero of the of the Pluto Campaign. He did his time with the military and returned to be with his family. His loving wife. His beautiful, healthy baby girl. His beautiful house.

He was happy. The war was over and he was happy.

But then one day his loving didn't love him anymore. His beautiful baby girl was now sick. Before long his beautiful house wasn't his anymore.

He ruined everything.

Smooth talking lawyer. His wife…she went to him. A judge ordered him to be placed under psychiatric evaluation.

Crazy. They said he was crazy. The shrink called it a "Dissociative Fugue with Violent Psychotic Features". The lawyer told the court that he had beat his wife and nearly killed their daughter and could not remember it. He said the trauma of the war did this to him.

Lies.

But the video…..no…it couldn't be!

He made it all up somehow!

Margie, you have to believe me!

My baby….my Evelyn…I would never….

But the court didn't listen. They locked him in a mental hospital. The lawyer and his wife, his loving, loving, Margie ran off with their baby. Even when he got out they wouldn't let him see his daughter. They wouldn't even tell her where they went too!

That judge…he even threatened him. Called him a monster!

"If I had my way you mentally sick animals would be shot! I have no pity for people like you. Retards, psychos, addicts, the whole lot of you deserve to get wiped out!"

That day….that day…James Hodge the family man died.

That night….that night when he stalked down that no good judge and blew his fucking brains out….Hodge the soldier returned.

For three long years he made it his mission to hunt down and kill judges who separated families. They were all monster's. They were all part of the system which used him to fight their wars and then took his life away.

But then they caught him and locked him up. He was going to be executed and all he could think was how terrible the world would be without him. So many people he hadn't killed who needed to die. Not to mention the fact that he still hadn't found his little girl.

But lo and behold, who should appear but his old squad commander, Col. Eugene Schaeffer!

He said that he had an offer for him. He said that he was forming a mercenary unit and needed someone he could trust. He could get him out and if he played along with him, he could even find out where his family was.

How could he refuse?

But here he was a few years later and still no further to his goal, and now his blood stained hands grew ever more stained.

When will it end?

Suddenly Ketchee stopped.

He turned and leveled his gun straight at him.

"Wha---"

Suddenly the right hedge wall exploded in a shower of leaves and branches as a huge figure burst out and grabbed Hodge.

"AHHH!"

The burst of automatic fire from Ketchee's rifle did not slow the beast as it burst through several more walls, including one made of solid brick and ran into the shadows carrying a struggling Hodge.

"HELP ME!!"

His scream echoed and died, swallowed by the oppressive darkness.

-----------------------------------------------

_8:12 PM_

"He's moving to Crypt! Intercept! Intercept him damn it!"

Three dots danced around the monitor. It would almost seem amusing if not for the fact that one of those three dots was a vicious killer which had taken out two of his men inside of an hour.

"Where is she?!"

Schaeffer turned his head and for the second time since the hour hand struck 8, he beheld his employer actually hoping for the sudden arrival the creature he was going to destroy.

Hoping all the while that she could save him from this mysterious being that was turning his home into a killing ground.

"Hurry you little bitch!"

----------------------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

CRASH!

Hodge found his back violently slammed into the cold marble of the crypt monument. The sharp pain confirmed what he already suspected: His back had suffered a debilitating injury.

But his captor seemed not to care.

The hulking creature was at least several feet higher than even the largest men he had seen. It was pitch black, but he could make out the monster's writhing tail and the steam rising from his mouth and various points of his body.

But his eyes were what drew the lions share of his attention: bright red eyes which illuminated the surroundings ever so slightly. A devils eyes.

"**LOOKS LIKE YOUR HAVING A BAD NIGHT….I CAN MAKE IT WORSE."**

The creature's voice….so cold, so mechanical, yet it dripped with a hate which only a human heart can provide.

"**TALK! WHERE IS THE TRANSMITTER?"**

He couldn't give in, his squad….

CRASH!

Again, his back met the cold marble and this time actually cracked its veneer.

"**IF YOU HAVE NOTHING TO OFFER, THEN I DON'T SEE ANY REASON TO LEAVE YOU ALIVE!"**

It would end here….but wait, his daughter? His goals? He could not…

--------------------------------------

He wanted to die……

If he wanted to live badly enough…he could and should be willing to sacrifice anything to that end…..

He wanted to die…..

He also probably deserved to die….

It winded back….

-----------------------------------------------

"Wait! Below You!"

"**ADD A NOUN AND YOU GOT A SENTENCE, CREEP."**

"The transmitter is below you!"

The devil made real. The creature who slays in the shadows. This vengeance which lives. looked at his feet.

It was that rapist…he had used his own son to nail him to the wall, only to violate his son's remains in this manner?

Sinnner!…..monster!….animal!

Dropping his query, the great metal beast began to dig into the earth like a man-size steam shovel.

Meanwhile, Hodge lay sprawled on his back.

He had failed. The beast would soon uproot the transmitter and he would have failed.

He would have failed his team.

He would have failed his commanding officer.

Most importantly, he would have failed his family.

No! He couldn't fall here….he just couldn't.

SHHRRRK!

The sound of twisting, tearing metal announced that his foe had found and was tearing at the transmitter antenna. That thing had beaten him. That robot had beaten him

He had failed.

It rose from the grave, a large metal antenna now in its steely grasp.

'Wait…what's this?'

Hodge felt around his pack and grasped a small metal orb.

'A EMP grenade….one chance to make this right'

It was preoccupied with the object in his hand, it didn't see him remove the pin.

It turned just in time to see the object fly towards its face….

"**GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"**

-------------------------------------------

_8: 30 PM_

Ketchee saw the explosion light up the west half of the compound. EMP grenade. Near the Crypt.

Hodge.

Ketchee was a hunter by nature. His people nicknamed him "he who hunts with spirits". The Department of Psionic Operations gave him a less pleasant title: "Assassin 089-E". The Moqui Tribe had a high instance of birthing Psionically adept individuals. The Council members never told them this of course. Children with powerful extrasensory perception were said to "walk with the spirits". Despite its pleasant undertones the term meant one thing: isolation.

The tribe feared and hated his kind.

After all it was because of 'gifts' like his that the great white fathers would come with their black helicopters and trucks to steal away children and kill families.

All for "the good of national security".

Children like him were taken to training centers and weaned on violence and trained to use their abilities to aid war efforts.

Those who demonstrated early aptitude with hunting and stalking were trained as psionic assassins, operatives who could use their abilities to greatly enhance their senses and stalk down a target no matter where it goes.

He was good. No question about it.

In fact he was so good that he was slated for execution.

Fear of an enemy is debilitating. Fear of a powerful ally becoming a powerful enemy, however, was unbearable.

The injections should have killed him. Yet he awoke. He awoke in strange surroundings.

The man in the uniform with the cold, dead eyes asked him a question.

"Would you like to die for them or hunt for me?"

How could he refuse?

Ketchee stalked his way into the crypt.

"K….K….Ket….."

Hodge was pinned to the ground, a large metal antenna rammed through his sternum.

Suddenly his eyes widened and a shadow fell over the two.

Ketchee turned and for the first time in many years, he was frozen by fear.

"You……"

Kalikanias! He was real! He was….

"**RUN LITTLE PIGGY. LET ME WORK UP AN APPETITE."**

-------------------

_8:35 PM_

"What do you mean , we've lost track of them?!"

"Exactly what it sounds like, sir. The tracker is on the fritz and…wait."

Suddenly, a blip was approaching the front door.

Something was now pounding on the front door.

"Let me in! Kalikonias lives! He lives!"

Schaeffer moved to leave the office.

"Stop!"

"Sir, Ketchee is one of my best men--"

"You idiot! Look!"

A second blip was closing in….

----------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

"Help me! He lives!!"

Ketchee pounded and screamed, this was not a man, this thing could not be hunted! This was a demon made real!

He pounded and pounded until a large crash sounded behind him.

It was time. There was no escape.

Ketchee dropped his rifle, and removed his flak jacket and shirt.

Drawing his heat blade, he turned and faced his foe.

He began to move around his prey.

Jab!

'He is like a bear.'

Jab!

'He has sudden speed but no agility.'

Jab!

'I need an opening…just one.'

The beast rushed him.

Ketchee leaped over its massive form and in a feat of acrobatic prowess, he turned mid-air and drove his blade towards the monster's outstretched neck.

"Burn in Hell, Kalikonias!"

SNNKT!

How…how could he be so fast…?

The large metal beast brought his prey, impaled on his tail and blew scalding steam into his face.

"**MY NAME IS SHELDON. I'VE BEEN TO HELL AND NOW……I'M BACK."**

-------------------------

_8:40 PM_

"We are so screwed!"

"Don't worry, Jen. You were taking care of that bank robbery…and that near-apocalyptic plant meltdown…and the attack from those berserk clones of William Howard Taft…and…"

"Yes, Bradley, I'm sure that Judge Daniels will understand….well, he better, it's your function for Newton's sake!"

The heroic Tremorton trio approached the imposing gates leading to the Daniel's estate. The gates beeped in confirmation

"SUBJECT (XJ9) CONFIRMED. WELCOME. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY."

The three walked in and took in the property.

Brad whistled, "Wow, how much do you think swanky digs like this---"

CRASH!

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The three instinctively hit the ground.

"The hell?!"

"It came from the mansion!"

"Let's hurry XJ9!"

-----------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

"He's through the door! He has breached the line! We have to…sir?"

Judge Daniels was already gone, the door remained open behind him as his panicked footfalls echoed through the estate.

"Fuck! Wait for me you coward!"

----------------------------------------

_8:42 PM_

"Wha…what did this?"

Brad nervously looked around watching his girlfriend's back as Dr. Wakeman examined the body.

Obviously a large male, probably of Native American decent, and who obviously was impaled by something and then slammed through a solid bronze door (with dura-steel inlays) with such force that the large door was torn off its hinges.

The hard question was what did this and why?

---------------------------

They were here!

They had come!

Now what to do….what to do…

-----------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

Judge Daniels ran to the Heli-pad and was happy to see that Schaeffer has already started it. Rushing into the vehicle, he closed the sliding door next to him and screamed "Get me out of here!"

--------------------------------

_8:45 PM_

The sound of a helicopter taking off and flying into the distance got the trio's attention.

"What the--?"

Suddenly, Jenny saw it: a massive figure in shadows, it had some kind of weapon in its hands. It aimed….

"BRAD!"

RATATATATATATATATA!

ZZZAAP!

-----------------------

_8:50 PM, Downtown Tremorton  
_

The speed of his prized vehicle truly never failed to amaze Daniels.

One minute he was home.

The next he could be at the courthouse!

Or maybe his yacht!

Or maybe….downtown Tremonton?

This wasn't part of the plan!

The chopper landed on the roof of a large abandoned apartment complex, its rotor blades still whirring.

"Schaeffer! What are doing here?!"

"…."

"I asked you a question you miserable, dick-less, pile of--"

The door opened.

"**SUCH LANGUAGE. I'M AFRAID I WILL JUST HAVE TO HOLD YOU IN CONTEMPT, YOUR HONOR."**

The clawed hand shoved him out of the helicopter and with a great clatter, Judge Dominic Daniels, age 50 (and a few packages and personal items to boot) fell unceremoniously onto the rooftop.

-----------------

_Meanwhile…._

Stupid….

That robotic bitch…he was sure that she was behind it all.

Robots…

He hated them all.

He hated them and their creators with a passion.

He was a Colonel for fucks sake! He had fought with distinction during the Pluto campaign! He was Col. Eugene Schaeffer, war hero!

But no…that Wakeman bitch turned on the servicemen in the Skyway patrol and began planning that…that…thing. Soon it was all about automated soldiers and robotic armies. It was madness! He was being outmoded by a hunk of circuits!

But war was in his blood. He couldn't stop. So if he couldn't do it under the disguise of defending Earth, he would do it for paying customers.

Oh how he worked to gather his team!

Bishop would be pissed if he found out that the whole "boot camp and hate" routine from his father was just part of his plan to blackmail the family in order to get his hands on the world's youngest sharp shooting champion. Boy, that situation spiraled out of control! The kid was supposed to just go to Titan and become indoctrinated into his forces. His dad would see him again and all would be forgiven and the family would be reunited…providing that little Nigel worked for him for awhile. But the kid had murder in his blood! Iced all of 'em and by luck teamed up with him anyway!

He went through the trouble of drugging his old "buddy" Hodge just to get him so confused that he would brutalize his own family. Stupid bastard probably died. He died not knowing that he had killed his own family years ago and was seeking a futile answer.

Ketchee? That squaw would just be another project reject if not for him. So he killed the man's family just to give him nowhere to go….what he doesn't know won't hurt him!

Reese? Dumb kid was just an easy acquisition. He needed someone dumb, young and murderous and he got him. Nothing special, probably just was just gonna use him as a scapegoat when this was all over and clean his hands of the blood.

But that Judge ran like the Armani wearing pile of crap he was and left him here.

Did he go a little crazy? Sure. But for a chance to ice that bitch…the gun practically thought for him.

But he blew it.

He missed.

She got him.

Stupid….

---------------------

_Meanwhile……_

"Who….who are you?! Don't you know who I am!?"

"**YOU? I KNOW WHO YOU ARE JUDGE DOMINIC DANIELS. YOU WERE ONCE A POWERFUL MAN IN LEGAL CIRCLES AND EQUALLY CORRUPT. YOU AND YOUR SON SHARED MANY TRAITS MR. DANIEL: YOU BOTH LAUGHED AS THE INNOCENT SUFFER AND YOU BOTH USED THE LAW TO OPPRESS THE WEAK. BUT TONIGHT THERE IS NO LAW TO PROTECT YOU, THERE IS NO ARMY TO SHIELD YOU. TONIGHT, YOU AND YOUR SON WILL HAVE ONE MORE THING IN COMMON: YOU BOTH DIED AT MY HANDS."**

The beast brought a great clawed hand to its face and soon billowing steam and gas rose as the creatures "head" was removed to reveal…a young man.

His eyes were closed in contemplation. His disheveled hair did a poor job in covering the numerous scars along the sides of face and the smaller scars near his eyes.

His eyes opened revealing no pupils, no iris, nothing but two glowing red lights where the eyes of a young man should be.

The judge back away further, his hand gripping one of his "personal effects" behind his sprawled form.

"As for me? My name WAS the Silver Shell. I WAS a guardian of the people you scoff at. I WAS once….a man, no different from you."

Thonk! Thonk!

The man/machine drew ever closer.

The Judge picked himself off of the ground and, hands tucked behind his back he walked towards him smirking.

"Guardian? You? Ridiculous."

Sheldon stopped moving and tilted his head

"Confused? I knew you were. So allow me to illuminate that dark empty pit you call a mind, you metal clad zombie."

The judge stared at him and snorted.

"I and only I am the guardian of these miserable people. Who are you? A murderous vigilante utilizing tired old catch words from old world religions to justify butchering those who get in your way! Granted, Shateed was a miserable mistake and probably deserved to die…but who are you to judge others, let alone ME? YOU are nothing but some pathetic anarchist clown who believes that by putting your life on the line for others that you will be loved, honored, and all that meaningless crap which has been passed off as being worthwhile for centuries. I thought as you did once. Once upon a time I too loved someone. I too put my life in danger for her and my 'friends'. What was my thanks? Loneliness! Isolation! Not to mention the sick feeling that this backstabbing fool was touching and tainting someone I loved more than myself. They claimed to be my friends but they were so enamored with each other that they avoided me while I was suffering, bleeding, and getting the crap kicked out of me! Sure they sometimes appeared AFTER to try 'comfort' me. But did they care about my pain? NO! Did they try to protect me? NO! What about my needs?! What about my dreams?! Just because I wasn't handsome or popular enough at the time I to be stepped on and then wiped off the boot of society like some insect?"

At this Sheldon lowered his head and closed his eyes.

"Boy, chivalry is dead. Knights, samurai, superheroes? They are now little more but escapist fantasies for those being trampled upon. Power, young man! Power is everything! The more you gain, the higher you climb. The end goal? To be on top of the human heap. I still remember what it was like to be at the bottom though, oh yes! But she eventually came to me, my revenge was complete and soon the tables were turned! I punished them! Those who put me down were taken down by my power! Isn't….isn't this what you were doing? You wanted her, so you created an alter-ego to seduce her. Tell me, why? Why did she love the Shell and not the man? The answer is simple: power. Sheldon Lee was a loser fit only to be used, but the Silver Shell? Now THAT was a man! Brutal, abusive, and assertive! That is what she wanted! That is why so many people cheered for you before! You fulfilled their desire for a violent avenger to assuage their guilt. But you…you wanted something else? Now look where it was gotten you."

He couldn't see the Judge draw the handgun.

His finger squeezed the trigger.

"YOU ARE NOTHING!"

_HEROIC JUDGE SLAYS ASSAILANT!_

_JUDGE DANIELS STOPS ROBO-CONSPIRACY!_

_JUDGE DOMINIC DANIELS GAINS OVERWHELMING SUPPORT FOR INCREASED LEGAL POWERS!_

He could see it all! The headlines! He had won! He had killed him! He…

Click!

He….

Click!

He…didn't…do…diddly!

"I think your missing….these"

Sheldon's hand opened and numerous bullets crashed along the ground.

"AAAAH!"

Sheldon grabbed the Judge's gun holding hand and led him towards the chopper.

"Let me go! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

Underneath the rotor blades, Sheldon smiled and held the Judge up.

"W-w-wait…."

"You were partially right. I thought like you once."

Higher.

"I once could only see my own pain. My own torment."

Higher.

"But I learned that justice isn't a pretty word or an abstract concept. It is a right that must be exercised and only when you face off against its foes, only when you face the risk of your own death without reward just for the sake of future generations are you truly alive."

Higher….

"N-n-no…."

"I didn't come back for Jenny or Brad or even you. I came back to correct a system which has become defective. I came back to make things right. I came back because there is someone who I need to save just as she saved me. I came back--"

Sheldon lowers the Judge's panicked face close to his own smirking visage.

"--to cleanse this once beautiful world of the sinners which prey on the innocent. Goodbye, Daniels and when you get to hell, tell the devil that there will be more on their way."

"NO! PLEASE!"

Sheldon gripped the struggling judge tightly….

"Measure twice--"

…and lifted him into the rapidly spinning blades of the helicopter.

--cut once."

--------------------------------

_Later…._

The blood dripped off his armored flesh, in the distance the rotors slowed down as chunks of the late Judge Daniels blocked the mechanism.

He gazed over his home town and placed his helmet back on.

"This is only the beginning. I'm home and this is only the beginning."

Leaping down from the building, Sheldon disappeared into the darkness of the Tremorton night.

----------------------------------

Next Chapter: Confrontation

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	15. Confrontation

My Life as a Teenaged Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their

respective owners.

The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain

mature content, read on at your own peril.

--

**Chapter 15: Confrontation**

"**Rage does not know sleep. Vengeance knows not rest."**

_Tremorton General Hospital, Morgue 6:05 AM_

"Subject DD897-01. Schaeffer, Eugene. Also known as, Mr. Fixit, the Colonel, and the Hero of the Pluto Campaign. Occupation: Security Contractor. Age: 57. Race: Caucasian. Cause of death: Complications arising from 3rd degree burns probably caused by a class III energy weapon."

Dr. Baye wiped his brow. There were just some nights that being a coroner didn't pay. Especially in Tremorton.

"Subject DD897-02. Hodge, James. Also known as Lance Hodge, James Howl, John Hodge, and the Angry Daddy Killer. Occupation: Security Contractor. Age: 34. Race: Negroid. Cause of death: Massive thoracic trauma due to impalement by a rod of scrap metal."

No wonder so many of his colleagues never stayed in this city for long! Between the aliens, mutants, and rogue puppets, there was a literal mountain of corpses killed in ways that definitely were not covered in most medical texts.

"Subject DD897-03. Bishop, Nigel. Also known as Lord Bishop, the Prince, and Whisper. Occupation: Security Contractor. Age: 19. Race: Caucasian. Cause of death: Due to the status of the subject's body determining a cause of death is impaired, however, I can infer that the subject may have died via massive abdominal trauma from a weapon of unknown origin or perhaps even after ,when he was…..ahem…decapitated."

Decapitated? His head was literally TORN off of his body! What ever happed to stabbings, shootings, and car crashes?

"Subject DD897-04. Unknown male. Recovered ID tags identify the subject as 'Ketchee', however no one possessing that name is registered with the Federal Database. Occupation: Judging from the uniform, the subject may have been with the same security company as the previous three individuals. Age: Subject appears to be in his late 20's. Race: Native American. Cause of death: Massive thoracic trauma due to impalement from a weapon similar to the one which impaled subject DD897-03 and blunt force trauma as a resulted of being launched through a reinforced security door."

Who were these guys fighting with, Samson?

"Subject DD897-05. Reese, Jack. Also known as Cali-Boi. Occupation: Security Contractor. Age: 18. Race: Caucasian. Cause of death: Drowning combined with blunt force trauma to the skull. It should also be noted that there are five identical puncture wounds around the impact zone suggesting puncture points caused by an assailant with clawed hands, possibly an animal."

Since when do animals hunt down and drown humans in swimming pools?

Gentle reader, allow me to introduce Dr. Christopher Baye, senior coroner for the Tremorton area. The good doctor also doubles as the official forensic pathologist for the Skyway Patrol. Truth be told, there are other professionals who handle the cases most of the time, but because of his experience and skill Dr. Baye is called on to deal with "special incidents", cases involving deaths which would confound his more conventional contemporaries.

In a town which has seen attacks from killer robotic teeth, giant rodents, and other such "unnatural" beings, unnatural death seems to be the norm.

But this was different.

"Subject DD897-06. Daniels, Dominic. Occupation: District Judge. Age: 56. Race: Negroid. Cause of Death:…..helicopter rotary related trauma. Oh hell….STOP TAPE."

Very different. While assassinations of major political figures are not unheard in the long, strange history of Tremorton, having such a prominent figure die like **this**, was something new even to Dr. Baye.

The heavy metal door to the morgue slowly opened, weighed down only by the sanitary plastic covering which jutted from the bottom of the frame. The effect of which, made the door itself screech like a rusty coffin lid.

"Whats the story, Chris?"

Enter Captain Fred Baye of the Skyway Patrol, the younger of the two Baye brothers. Together he and his brother had faced some of the strangest cases to ever confront their fair city. This combined with their divergent personalities earned them the nickname, "The Brothers Strange".

The older Baye regarded his younger brother with an eyebrow raise.

"You tell me. You drag me out of bed at this ungodly hour, and have me work with six of the most brutalized corpses I have ever seen in my career….."

"What about the 'Blood Oyster' case? You said you would nev--"

"Don't interrupt me, Fredrick!" The flustered coroner snapped, "Not even THAT case comes close to this massacre. I'm just glad you have the killer in custody."

"Suspect."

"What?"

The Skyway Patrol captain walked closer to his sibling, "She is a suspect and she'll stay that way until a trial proves otherwise."

Dr. Baye pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Fredrick, the strength required to do this--" Dr. Baye lifted the sheet covering the body of the subject was known as Ketchee, "--to a human body can only be achieved by a creature with incredible physical power. Furthermore, wounds on several of the victims contained traces of NT-Titanium alloy. Need I remind you that outside of a certain Cluster Queen, there is only one other entity on record whose body is over 80 NT-Titanium, and just so happened to be at the scene of the crime!?"

"I know but she…."

"She? That THING is a robot. Machines can't be trusted."

Captain Baye sighed and tried to think of a suitable rejoinder. He came up empty.

"Fredrick, XJ9 went rogue and when they transfer her to the Courtroom tomorrow, that is exactly what will come out at the trial. "

"…."

"Have you forgotten the evil that a single machine can do? Have you already forgotten the CE-01 incident ?"

"No….never."

"Neither have our people. The people of Tremorton have not forgotten the evil that a soulless abomination is capable of and this so-called "hero" is just that."

--

_Skyway Patrol Headquarters ,Tremorton 7:00 AM_

The Skyway Patrol jail cells…how had this happened?

She wasn't supposed to be here! She….she brought criminals here!

She wasn't a criminal. Why was she here?

Jenny's logic circuits had been sifting away through these same five statements for the past few hours.

'A Murderer? No….they can see that it wasn't….that I didn't…..NO!'

"_You killed them all! Confess!"_

"Wha…..I would never--"

"_You should be grateful to even to have a trial. My radio broke down on me once and I just threw it in the trash! The trash! That's where you belong, you pile of circuits!"_

"No……."

"_Tears? Don't oil up my desk, you fucking walking disaster."_

They never listened. They didn't care. The city wanted to blame someone…to lynch a robot. Why was no one standing up for her?

"_Be Free!"_

All her years of service, all her sacrifices, all for what?

"_Be Free!"_

Vexus…..she knew somehow Vexus was behind it all.

"_Be Free!"_

But what did the truth matter? No one cared about the truth, just about what **feels **true at the time.

--

_Meanwhile….._

"I'm telling you the truth!"

"I doubt that, robot fucker."

The crass rejoinder raised a great many chuckles in the interrogation room. A very crowded interrogation room, which struck the once proud "Captain Carbunkle" as a bit odd.

Maybe basing all his "legal studies" on watching episodes of Law and Order: Special Bikini Crimes Unit was not the best idea he had ever had.

"Why would we try to off a judge anyway?"

"I'm the one asking the questions here, carrot top. Look all I want is for you to admit that you and your little metallic blow-up doll did the crime and we can all go home and you can serve your time."

The large Skyway patrol interrogator leaned forward, "My time is valuable, little man, waste it and I'll waste you right here, right now."

"But most of those guys were dead when we got there--"

"Except for Colonel Schaeffer who got burned alive by your trigger happy little girlfriend, right?"

"He fired first!"

The laughter filled the room once again.

"Keep it up, 'Cap'! We might believe it next time!"

"The Hero of the Pluto Campaign took a pot shot at YOU? Man, the whole BS about you fighting the Cluster was one thing….but this?"

Brad bristled at the insults being tossed his way.

"Are you kidding me?! We saved your ungrateful asses!"

The laughter grew

"Stop it! We did it all!"

"I bet you did, metal dick!"

Now a few patrolmen were holding their sides as the guffaws filled the room like a noxious cloud.

"So how does it feel to be the first man to fuck a kitchen appliance?"

At this, Brad snapped. They could abuse him, he was used to that.

But Jenny? Now that was too much!

His hands slammed into the table, the cold slap of flesh resounding against cold steel.

"Shut the fuck up! You see this badge?! You see this badge?! Do you see this mother fucking badge?! I'm Captain Carbunkle! CAPTAIN! Do you hear me you slack-jawed, grunts!? CAPTAIN! I outrank every last one of you! This isn't even standard interrogation procedure……"

At this, Brad stopped and reevaluated the situation: '15 officers in one room? That can't be right.' On closer inspection the interrogator's uniform was that of a mere street patrolman. What the hell was he doing in here?

"Not standard procedure, huh?" The large interrogator stood up and turned his back to the young redhead.

"Let me tell you something about procedure, clown shoes. Procedure is an idea made up by beaurocrats in order to save their own hides when the shit hits the fan. Procedures don't save lives, WE DO. Rules don't defend the city, WE DO. An operations manual written by some pencil neck behind a desk doesn't fight battles against alien freaks, WE DO."

At this he turned and for the first time Brad realized just how tall the man before him was: a mountain casting a shadow down on a single, diminutive fig tree. The man-giant's eyes glared down on the teenager in front of him.

"You want procedure? I'll give you procedure. Skyway Patrol operations manual chapter 5 section 62 subsection 319B: 'The promotion to the rank of Patrol Captain represents a grand achievement for active Skyway Patrol personnel. As such certain criteria must be met before such a huge step is taken. Firstly, the officer in question must have been in active service for at least five years. Secondly, the officer must have at least reached the rank of lieutenant before such considerations can be taken seriously. Thirdly, the officer must have demonstrated outstanding loyalty, courage, and skill above and beyond the call of duty during the years leading up to their promotion'. Get it yet, boy? You ain't no Captain. Your just a political tool, like your little robot whore. Just another ramrod used by the higher up to fuck us out of what we have fought so hard to earn."

Brad suddenly became aware of the sound of something solid being slapped against flesh. It was rhythmic, almost harmonious.

The sound of nightsticks being slapped against an open palms.

Brad spun around and a small "eep!" escaped his lips as regarded the scene: the 15 officers were now staring at him with murderous glares and hands which held shiny new clubs.

"Figured it out, Cap? This ain't no stinkin interrogation. Its an execution!"

Brad took a defensive stance and danced wildly out of the way of the first three strikes.

He barely dodged the next four.

But the next eight…..those he couldn't dodge.

His bones cracked. Blood clouded his vision from the open wound above his eye.

As he lost conciousness, he could only see the angry faces of the men beating him. The faces of beasts masquerading as men.

"J-J-Jenny……."

The darkness swallowed him whole

--

_Wakeman Residence, Tremorton, 9:30 AM_

This house. There was a time when this mysterious edifice was the source of all his nightmares. The spook house. The home of a demented scientist and her evil experiments.

The Wakeman residence still represented many of Tuck Carbunkle's deepest fears. But the fears themselves have changed.

The fear of abandonment.

The fear of betrayal.

But now things had become so confusing. Most everything he knew had become the source of his fears and this damned house, this dark house, this scary place had become his shelter.

His parents had left town to seek a lawyer for his brother and the youngest Carbunkle brother did not feel like going to school and suffering the insults of his classmates.

They didn't understand. How could they? He knew his brother. He knew Jenny. He knew Doctor Wakemen. They weren't killers.

With no place else to go, storm clouds starting to gather and the constant fear of running into a zealous reporter who wanted to squeeze him for details about his brother's arrest, he only had one option.

Tuck entered the house. The lights were out. Great.

"Doctor Wakeman?"

Naught but the silence answered him.

Tuck felt a chill run down his spine, as the old terrors filled him. But he shook them off.

This was his home now and home was never a scary place.

Going upstairs, Tuck walked into the hallway bathroom. Ah, bathrooms, so clean, so perfect. So safe. A haven from the uncontrollable world outside the tiled palace.

At least it was so to the youngest Carbunkle.

Tuck turned the faucet and soon the sink was filled with hot water. He began to clean his face. He continued scrubbing until he was certain that he was presentable. Casually, he checked his face in the mirror.

A figure in the background. A shadow which vanished in an instant.

"D-D-Docter Wakeman?"

No response.

Tuck peeked outside the door and found himself staring headlong into an empty hallway.

The crash of thunder shook the house and briefly the lightning flashes illuminated the house. At this Tuck found himself tempted to seal himself inside the bathroom, trembling in fear.

But this was his home now and home was never a scary place.

The young Carbunkle wandered throughout the house, peeking into each and every room seeking his host, the strangely absent Dr. Wakeman.

Thirty minutes later he had searched the house top to bottom (nearly being mauled by a Bengal tiger when he foolishly opened one of the auxiliary basement doors) and still did not find Dr. Wakeman.

Sighing, Tuck entered the one room he had purposely avoided: Jenny's bedroom.

Brad and Jenny stayed in the same room. Tuck knew what they were doing. Not in detail of course, but he knew much more than many of his peers. But it didn't mean that he had to like it!

They had given up on him because they were so involved with each other! They would have not gotten in trouble if they weren't together! They had turned their back on….him.

'Sheldon'.

The ghost of his old mentor and friend still made the rounds of his mind. Sheldon was the first person to listen to his needs and dreams. Sheldon had understood what it was like to be different from other people, to think differently from the pack. Sheldon treated him like an equal, and in the mind of the former Tin Can that made him as much a brother as Brad was.

Tuck sat on the hard, metal slab which served as Jenny's bed and clutched his head.

'Sheldon, I miss you.'

SCREEEAAK!

Tuck jumped up at the loud sound.

SCREEEAAK!

Something scratching against glass. A branch at a window? An animal seeking shelter from the rain, perhaps? A horrid beast seeking his blood carving its way through--

No. This was his home now and home was never a scary place.

"Dr. Wakeman? Is that you?"

SCREEEAAK!

The sound came from the main foyer and seemingly grew more frequent as he came closer.

SCREEEAAK!

SCREEEAAK!

Movement came from his peripheral and as he turned his head he could see that the front door was slightly ajar.

"Dr Wakeman?"

Suddenly a shadowy figure appeared from the darkness brandishing a large implement, swinging like a pendulum drawing closer and closer until Tuck could gaze upon his attackers face….!

The broom-bot swept the floor around Tuck and moved on to the continue his duties.

A cleaning machine? He had just been scared half to death by a robo-maid? So much for the fearless Tin Can!

He closed the door and sighing, he leaned back on one of the large windows.

This was home and home was never……..

SCREEEAAK!

That sound again….now right next to his ear. A massive shadow now enveloped his own.

Tuck slowly turned and froze in fear.

A pair of inhuman red eyes regarded him. A single clawed finger scratched a slow circle in the glass.

SCREEEAAK!

The rain beat down. The thunder clapped. The lightning flashed. A young boy's scream. The shattering of glass.

--

_Tremorton District Courthouse, Tremorton 5:00 PM_

"Katie Nell here on site for what is shaping up to be the trial of the century! Early this morning Skyway Patrol officers were forced to detain the XJ-9 Global Defense Unit which has apparently malfunctioned, resulting in the death of six men including Judge Dominic Daniels, the heroic judge who bravely challenged his son's murderer Sheldon Oswald Lee, the Silver Shell Killer. Also arrested in connection with this murder is womanizer and deviant Bradley Carbunkle, a disgraced Skyway Patrol officer. Skyway Patrol officials insist that the machine's creator, controversial scientist Nora Wakeman is not currently a suspect, however Dr. Wakeman has been strangely absent and all our calls to her residence have gone unanswered. It is quite obvious that--wait! I think….yes! There she is!"

"Lousy robot bitch!"

"Burn the bot!"

"Burn the bot!"

"Burn the bot!"

The chant rang out, shaking the very air surrounding the courthouse.

She couldn't hear them (ah, the wonders of having the ability to consciously deactivate your senses!).

As soon as the heavy door of the prisoner transport opened, Jenny was greeted with the barrels of guns, and the angry faces of the people of Tremorton.

She stumbled out into the light, her hands and feet bound by a complex series of electronic shackles and servo suppressive bindings, which prevented her from doing little more than shuffling forward like a condemned soul walking the final mile to their own execution.

A fact that was not far from the truth.

"Move it, prisoner!"

"XJ9! Did you do it?"

"Out of the way!"

"Kill 'em all!"

"DIE! DIE!"

"Move your ass robot!"

Had they already forgotten? Didn't she save them once? She was pretty sure that she had saved the world before.

Maybe that was only a dream. Maybe she really did kill all those people. Maybe she really deserved to die after all.

Maybe if she confessed at least Brad could be saved. She was just a robot. She had no life. She was just a disposable tool. Just for Brad….

Anything for…..

"Look at Carbunkle! Not so cocky now are you?!"

"Brad…?"

Her eyes wildly scanned the crowd.

Where was he? Where was her hero? Where is her brave, lively lover?

"Looks like someone just got their ass kicked!"

A man-like figure was being led by a chain, stumbling and falling every so often, only to be struck by a baton and then lifted by the back of his tattered clothing, the remnant of a broken uniform. His blood flood freely, there were bloody stripes on his back, and his fiery red hair was matted and was offset by the mask of blood which had covered his face.

That hair, that uniform….no! She reactivated her audio systems.

A single open eye stared ahead defiantly.

He spat out another globule of blood and he snarled to his assailant "That all you got….you pansy?"

That voice!

"BRAD!"

The broken man tried to turn the sound of his metal angel but was restrained.

"Move it!"

"Jenny…." He called out weakly

She struggled and tried to reach him…only to suffer a violent shock. An EMP rod, also known as a robo-agonizer. A device originally designed by her mother. The irony was practically stifling.

"Shut up and keep moving, prisoner!"

But she kept struggling….and the shocks kept coming.

Each time she fell she would rise up and lurch forward. Even as her system screamed in excruciating digital pain, even as her captors continued to beat her and pull at her metallic pigtails, she struggled towards him.

He would not fail her. Even as his bound form was held fast by his captor he still struggled, opening his wounds and causing more blows to come down upon his back.

They pushed through the sea of pain, the ocean of the insults, and their bound forms met.

Her metallic flesh was scorched, and covered with garbage, but to his eyes, she was never more beautiful.

His body was a bloody mess, and one of his eyes was shut and swollen, but she still felt her oil warm up at the sight of him.

They crashed together in a sad, but heartfelt attempt at an embrace. A scene which would wrench the heart of any intelligent being.

"Disgusting!"

"I can't stand this shit!"

"BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF THEM, YEAH!"

But a human in a mob is little removed from a swarm of insects: ravenous and soulless.

The hostile crowd encircled them and soon they were pulled apart by their captors.

The beatings came, viciously, constantly, almost unceasingly.

The mob cheered on the brutal act before them. They were hypnotized by the agonized writhing of the two lovers.

They never saw the car coming.

CRASH!

The crowd screamed as the half ton bulk of a sports car came crashing down on a section of the mob with a sound which was a cross between the crunch of metal and wet, sickening sound of pulverized flesh.

The screams followed. The Skyway Patrol officers suddenly became more concerned with the problem at hand.

The two lovers, now relatively alone, slowly moved towards each other again.

"Jenny, what's going on?"

She turned and studied the trajectory of the "flying" car. She didn't have to look far.

A shadow fell over the crowd, the setting sun at its back. A massive black metal beast with a sharp writhing tail, cruel clawed hands opening and closing, and a pair of terrible, nightmarish red eyes.

If there was a hell for mechanical souls, this would be the Robotic Devil.

With the sound pulverized of stone and the screech of pneumatics the metal giant leapt down amongst the startled crowd.

"Another robot?!"

"They're revolting against us!"

"KILL IT!"

--

A small unit of Skyway Patrol officers surrounded him. The largest officer among them brandished an EMP rod.

"I'll roast ya, toaster!" he rod delivered its EMP shock and was soon joined by the payload of others.

The beast was unmoved.

The tail moved quickly. Too quickly. Their broken forms flew through the air and landed amongst the terrified onlookers.

If the beast gave any consideration for its actions, its face blank save for the glow of its eyes, gave no indication. Instead, it strode forward.

The beast made a beeline to the wounded couple, bating aside any and all opposition.

The metal heroine and her beau struggled to their feet and stood as tall as they could manage as the lumbering colossus carved a path of destruction.

THONK! THONK!

20 Feet.

THONK! THONK!

10 Feet.

THONK! THONK!

The beast was now towering over them.

Neither side blinked and even the crowd and now less courageous Skyway Patrol officers gave them space.

A ring fit for a climactic confrontation.

The beast was too fast. Soon its hands had seized Brad by his chains.

The whirring of servos barely dulled her screams.

"BRAD! NO!"

SCREECH!

Just as quickly he was grabbed, Brad was dropped back to his feet, unchanged save for his removed chains.

The beast tore Jenny's shackles from her form in the same manner.

"I knew it! They're working together!"

"Stop 'em!"

As the crowd surged forward the beast slammed its tail into the ground with such force that several members of the mob fell on their backs. The crowd once more moved back.

The beast circled the couple, hissing, and blasting steam from its vents, studying them like a predator scanning his prey.

--

"Jen, who is this guy?"

The metal champion shook her head. "No clue."

But they both sensed something.

As if they were observing a familiar silhouette.

The beast stopped and stood before them once more.

Its eyes looked through them, into their very core.

Its clawed hands gripped its face….and promptly tore it off!

A face, once almost always smiling now only bore a stern appearance.

"It's not possible!"

"You? You're….alive?"

A pair of red eyes in place of the warm, chocolate irises they were used to.

"He's dead! It's a zombie!"

"Ghost! Ghost! Somebody get Fenton on the line!"

Light scars now marked the area around his eyes, where once only freckles used to be.

"Sh-Sheldon?"

The head of an old friend, was now connected to the body of a new nightmare. His voice, now a booming roar like that of an angry god.

The steam billowed forth from his otherwise human mouth and his eyes were set on the couple before him.

"**LO! THE LAND was SCARRED AND THE ARMIES LAY SPINTERED AND THE CRIES OF THE WOMEN REACHed THE HEAVENS! THE SEAS WERE FILLED WITH BLOOD AND THE MOUNTAINS CRUMBLED AND THE PRIDE OF MEN WERE LAID LOW! THE WISEMEN THEN CRIED, IN A PATHETIC LAST GASP… "**

Sheldon leaned forward, his stern face only inches away from that of his former love and his old bosom friend.

"…**.JUDGEMENT DAY IS NIGH!"**

**--**

Next Chapter: Scorpion

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	16. Scorpion

My Life as a Teenaged Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their

respective owners.

The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain

mature content, read on at your own peril.

--

Ch. 16: Scorpion

"…**and the Scorpion responded, as they both sank below the waters, as the traitor's venom burned his former friend with equal parts pain and the sense of betrayal, 'It is my nature to kill, I know nothing else.' "**

_Wakeman Residence, Tremorton 5:10 PM_

It was a bad day to be Nora Wakeman.

Not that there was ever a good day when you were a Skyway Patrol hero turned publically reviled scientific pariah. But today was especially bad.

Her finest creation was now a few hours away from being destroyed to assuage the fear of a panicked populace.

A courageous young man who she had grown attached to was about to be lynched by the same vicious mob.

Not to mention the minor fact that she was now close to the chopping block herself.

….and on top of all that, traffic had been a complete nightmare and now she was running late to her only chance to prevent the above mentioned miscarriage of justice.

'Einstein's ghost! Can this day get any wor—'

She stopped herself. She had been in the hero business long enough to know that finishing that sentence was practically an invitation for trouble. She was not a superstitious woman but she was humble enough to know that the power behind the universe had a strange sense of humor.

Rule of thumb: The situation can always get worse.

Multiplying her problems was far from attractive at this point. She needed to focus on the problem at hand.

Deep breath.

'Relax, Nora. Just get into the house, get the files prepped and get to the courthouse.'



She had spent much of the day (and much of her limited funds) gathering information from her contacts within Skyway Patrol HQ. It was amazing how much political turmoil could increase the price of insider information!

Dr. Wakeman reached for her keys and the knob of her front door simultaneously.

The door swung open freely.

Instinctively, she dropped her purse and drew her blaster. An unlocked door and a dark house meant only one thing: she had an uninvited guest.

Given the current socio-political climate of her city, said guest most likely had less than benign intentions.

'5…4….3…2...1…go!'

Honed reflexes and natural born instincts took over, the former hero dove into the hot zone and assumed a clearing stance.

No contacts. Good.

Her eyes were drawn to the broken shards of glass near her feet. The wary doctor followed the trail of shattered glass, twisted metal, and reinforced support beams which ended at a breach in the perimeter of her abode. The good news was that she had located the main entry point used by the intruder.

The bad news was that said entry point was a hole made through 5 layers of reinforced riot glass, durasteel inlays, and a system of perimeter support beams which were designed to resist repeated bombardment. No blood, no foreign detritus, meant something else too: whatever had made this hole ripped its way through without any injury to self. Only two ways to achieve that feat: extremely powerful explosives, or the use of an armored vehicle to crash through the wall. The lack of scorch marks, and the size of the hole suggest the neither of these two options were likely.

The huge footprints were another issue. This was going to be a bad day.

Her eyes noticed a light in the kitchen. A television was playing without sound.

Step by step she grew closer to the source of the light. Someone was sitting in a chair in front of the television.

"Freeze! Make one move and I'll……Tuck?"

The little figure did not move.

"Tuck! What have you done to my house?! What are you doing here? Where….."



Dr. Wakeman finally approached close enough to look upon the youngest Carbunkle.

"Tuck….? Oh….oh my…….Tuck!"

_Meanwhile……._

"…**..JUDGEMENT DAY IS NIGH!"**

It is unlikely that one might see a more bizarre sight.

The vicious mob which had come to jeer at the doomed couple was now reeling from the shock of the appearance of this cybernetic colossus.

For their part, the remaining Skyway Patrol Officers were split into two camps: the rookies who were quivering and hiding behind the armor of their cruisers and the more experienced officers who were now debating on one of three courses of action.

Engage the new perp and exterminate it.

Call for backup and attempt to subdue all three perps.

See what the former Silver Shell was going to do.

Many of the officers were torn in this regard. Some still held a high opinion of the former vigilante and thought that they owed him the opportunity to explain his purpose in coming back from the dead. Others were quick to point out that he had just finished assaulting and killing several Skyway Patrol personnel.

For all their debate the assembled personnel agreed on one thing as they huddled together, merely a few feet from the broken bodies of their comrades: the armored behemoth was force to be reckoned with.

In the middle of this scene, framed by rabid yet fearful faces, and the sickly sweet smell of fresh carnage, one will find the three protagonists of this mad tragedy.

The two lovers stood aghast at the revelation which shocked their already exhausted minds. They had mourned for this man. They had felt guilt for betraying this man. In a cosmic irony, they were brought together romantically by this man who stood before them.

Now they knew not what to feel, rendered numb from the shock.

"**WHAT? NO GREETING? NO WARM EMBRACE TO WELCOME ME BACK FROM THE BRINK OF OBLIVION?"**

The beast opened his arms and drew his former friends close in a gentle, yet assertive hug. His voice, an abominable mixture of organic cords and electronic simulations flowed into their ears,

"**I MISSED YOU BOTH." **



Brad sighed in relief. "I-I missed you too, Shel."

"**I WILL MISS YOU AFTER THIS IS OVER"**

"Well yeah, I….huh?"

The beast's grip grew tight, painful, crushing. His voice cracked and screeched with barely concealed malice.

"**I WILL MISS YOU….BUT RIGHT NOW, I CAN'T STAND YOU."**

"Sheldon! You're hurting us! Let go!" Jenny struggled against his grip, handicapped by the fact that any excessive force would endanger her beau, who was now crushed against her bosom.

"**I'M HURTING YOU? YOU ARE BEING HURT?"**

The pressure increased, bones creaked and metal began to buckle.

"**WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT PAIN? WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT AGONY?"**

The pain was unbearable, made more intense by the fury which radiated from the beast's form, the rage which caused him to shake even as his voice became ever quieter.

"**WHAT ABOUT MY PAIN? WHAT ABOUT WHEN I WAS HURT? WHAT ABOUT ME? WHERE WERE YOU?"**

The beast's hold grew ever tighter, tighter, the pain roared in their minds until…!

…he let go. Just as suddenly as they were snatched up, the lovers were let go. Brad fell straight to the asphalt. Fractures and contusions everywhere and his already grievous injuries were made worse.

But Jenny was a different matter. In but a blink of an eye she had entered a fighting stance.

"Sheldon! Listen to me! You aren't yourself, that technology is Cluster made, it's controlling you! We're your friends! Don't you remember?"

The cybernetic demon snorted and locked his helmet into place.

"_**I don't know this man."**_

'My…my voice!'

"_**I never knew this man."**_

'The hospital!'

"_**I frankly never want to know this man."**_



"Sheldon!"

"_**I don't know this man. I never knew this man. I frankly never want to know this man. "**_

"You don't understand! We were…."

"_**I don't….I never….I never want….man….man…man…man."**_

"STOP IT!"

"_**never….never…never…never….never"**_

"FINE! I admit it! We bailed on you! Is that what you want to hear?" Jenny's voice shook.

The recording stopped.

"We did what we thought was right at the time! You…you lied to us! You lied to me! You….you…you"

"**SEE? MY MEMORY IS JUST FINE. IN FACT, MY MEMORIES ARE WHAT KEPT ME ALIVE THROUGH THE PAIN OF MY….UPGRADE. TELL ME JEN, DID YOU THINK I WOULD FORGIVE YOU? DID YOU THINK I WOULD FORGET? DID YOU THINK I CAME HERE TO MASSAGE YOUR FEET AND MAKE YOU FEEL SPECIAL? NO, NOT THIS TIME AND NEVER AGAIN."**

Jenny said nothing. Her arms extended and ever so lovingly picked up the wounded form of her lover. The fallen super-heroine carried her beloved to the relative safety of a nearby Skyway Patrol cruiser.

Her eyes met those of an older officer. Not a word passed between them. No words were needed. The red headed hero was lain in the backseat of the vehicle.

"Je…nny?"

Her eyes softened as she kissed him one last time.

She stood, and turned, her face changing entirely. Determined eyes now set upon the black metal devil. Each step brought her closer. Each time her metal boots met the road, the beast's claws clenched and opened.

She stopped. Her body lowered and her fists clenched.

"Sheldon, I don't know what you've gone through. I can't imagine your pain. But I won't let you harm anyone here."

"**HOW VERY NOBLE. DYING FOR THE SINNERS? A PITY YOU COULD NOT SPARE ME ANY SUCH CONCERN."**



"Your whining is grating on my nerves, pal. I suffered after that day, too. My mom cried for you. Brad tried to redeem himself by finding the truth. Tuck….he was so broken, so lost without you. But you don't care about that do you? It's all about you. It always is! You manipulated me to feed your own needs when you were the Silver Shell. You killed those criminals just to make yourself feel powerful. You play this martyr card to the nth degree, just to pretend that you are some kind of doomed, romantic hero."

The robot girl pointed an accusing finger at the beast.

"You hypocrite! You were always a monster! I thought that you could grow up. I thought you would become a better person. But now I know that a freak like you could never understand! I cared about you, Sheldon. I thought about there being an 'us'. But now I can see that all you are is a little man, trying to play hero. That's why you needed me isn't it? You didn't love me, you just wanted to BE me. So how does it feel, Sheldon? How does it feel to be exposed and hurt? How does it feel to be hated? How does it feel to be judged? HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE ME?!"

The man-beast blew steam out of his vents.

"**I AM GOING TO ENJOY THIS."**

"I doubt that"

The two armored foes locked optics. The metallic beauty stood in opposition to the armored brute.

Creation held it's breath. It's exhalation, like the roar of thunder.

At 5:21 PM, in front of the Tremorton court house, before a rapt audience, the monster once known as Sheldon Oswald Lee and the fallen guardian, Jennifer Wakeman clashed.

--

_Meanwhile….._

Claxons sounded and a virtual symphony of scrambling boots echoed throughout the interior of Skyway Patrol headquarters.

"CODE RED! I REPEAT CODE RED! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! ALL SKYWAY PATROL PERSONEL MUST REPORT TO DEPLOYMENT STATIONS FOR IMMEDIATE LAUNCH!"

The apes guarding her cell left to join their hideous brethren on whatever fruitless venture their superiors saw fit to send them on.



Run here. Run there. React to the situation with panic. Waste resources. Solution solved within "acceptable parameters". Repeat.

Pathetic. Flawed. Predictable. Primitive.

She hated their weakness. Had they even a modicum of courage (or sense) they would have executed her by now. Instead they lock her up in a cylinder in the hopes that their mockery of a legal system will prove the superiority of their civilization by giving her the presumed benefit of a "fair" trial.

Imbecilic. Defective. Worthless.

She was Queen Vexus! All of robo-kind saw her as their rightful leader! It was her destiny to purge the human plague from the universe! How dare they presume to cage her majestic form and then have the audacity to ignore her to deal with some mundane, minor disruption! She was the greatest threat to their existence, how dare they overlook her!

Frail. Useless.

She was…she was….she was a captive. It was over. Even if she was able to escape and summon her forces, there were no forces left to heed her call. It would take months to muster a force large enough to attempt a rescue. She was beaten. She was defeated and the desecration of Isis would go un-avenged. The despoilers had won.

Broken.

Isis...the irony of their intertwined fates…the bitter secret which constantly drew her back to this planet….now at least, after they humiliate her, after they tighten the chains around her kind, after the cold abyss of her failure swallows her spark whole, after all that, she will die.

She will die and the ghosts of millennia past will cease taunting her.

So weary was the mind of Vexus that she did not notice the small but bright light coming from the vent.

So exhausted was the silicon soul of the Wanderer that she did not see the burning hole grow.

Beady eyes peered from the darkness.

"BAAANUH!"

--

_Tremorton Courthouse, 5:35 PM_

He was good.



NT-Titanium chassis, heavy around the head and chest. His vital systems were well shielded. Hands ended in wicked claws, reinforced and equipped with omni-joints. He could hit hard and fast. Tough stuff, but nothing she hadn't seen from fighting the agents of the Cluster.

CLANG!

"Gah!"

That tail was something new. Solid NT-Titanium, with a barbed end like some kind of robotic scorpion. Fast too. Too fast.

CRUNCH!

She grit her teeth as sparks flew from the newest wound on her back.

The range was a problem too. Usually she would pepper a nasty customer like this with heavy ordinance from a distance. But the powers that be locked her weapons and removed her ammunition, leaving her with nothing but her fists.

SMASH!

"_Channel 9 is going to be pissed about their van." _

She shouldn't worry about collateral damage now. There were bigger problems at hand. A hulking killing machine, with the brain of a disturbed, but brilliant vigilante was a more significant issue.

Worse yet, was the fact that he was lethal at three ends.

Complicating matters even further was the fact that she had grossly underestimated his hand to hand skills.

BAM!

_WARNING! RIGHT FOREARM SERVO COMPROMISED! WARNING! ABDOMINAL FUEL SECTION 4 HAS SUFFERED DAMAGE!_

The mother of all body blows cut through her guard as she flew in. He knows what he's doing. He knows what he wants.

He wants her dead.

--

Systems screaming.



She had been shocked time and again with EMP rods. Her battery was probably running low from stress. Her major weapons were out of the picture.

CLANG!

"**COME ON, TOOTS. I HAVEN'T EVEN BEGUN TO HURT YOU."**

Why then, was she such a handful? Her fists and feet did not reach him often. But when they did….oh, when they did……it burned. She should have been on her last legs, yet each successful blow from her seemed to knock one more vital system offline.

CRUNCH!

He hit her with enough force to crush a Bank vault. His claws pierced her abdomen. His tail cracked like a bull whip and gashed her hide deeply. Yet she still fought with the intensity of a hero who had the support of the whole world. Didn't she understand? Wasn't she just moments away from annihilation at the hands of these peons? Why does she still fight for them?

No. Not for them. For him. For that wounded creature in the cruiser. For the love that may soon flicker out, blown away by the winds of human prejudice.

SMASH!

"**TOO MUCH TV IS BAD FOR YOU, JEN. ROTS YOUR BRAIN. WEAKENS YOUR BODY. IF IT HADN'T, YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY STAND A CHANCE AGAINST ME."**

That's it. Keep talking. Don't let her know. Don't let her know how tired you are. Don't let her know about the damage done to your life support systems. Don't let her know about how the repeated EMP shocks you've suffered over the past few hours have really been eating at your nervous system. Don't let her notice your faltering stance.

Don't let her figure out "the plan".

She is flying in too fast! Have to do something……!

BAM!

Instincts take over. An outstretched hand meant to cushion the impact came too slowly. Too slow to defend, but timed just right, to strike her with devastating force. Impact causes her forearm to start sparking like a cheap firework. Claws puncture her stomach and by good fortune hit a major fuel line.

Lucky man. If his luck holds out, his "partner" might actually be able to pull off his end.

--

_Meanwhile….._

Sentient Robots have a psyche. Not many people know that, but it is true. Given time and experience a robot can become neurotic, brave, cowardly, narcissistic, altruistic, histrionic, chronically depressed and every other mental condition/personality quirk under the stars.

Robots can go quite mad. So it was that the captive queen of Cluster thought that her sanity had left her (again) when a strange little robotic imp began to hack into the control system for her containment device with similarly diminutive tools.

A name…a name surfaced.

"Killsnore?"

"That's KILLGORE! KILLGORE!" The little red robot flailed his arms wildly, distracted by this own wounded ego.

"What on Cluster are you doing here? Where are my forces? Aren't you dead?"

"Quiet!" Killgore snarled only to meet the angry face of his queen. "Uh, I meant, please be quiet your highness, we're here to rescue you."

"We? Who else is here?"

The small robot continued on his task.

"No time your majesty, he is trying to distract the humans by causing mayhem in the city."

"Mayhem? Without my orders? Who dares—"

Continuing in his task, seemingly oblivious to his queen's agitated inquiry "I had to admit when he brought me out of the HIVE and rebuilt me, I thought the plan was crazy. But it might work!"

"THE SANCTITY OF THE DIGITAL COLLECTIVE WAS VIOLATED!! WHAT HERETIC DARES--"

"Repairing the old master portal system, getting me in here, fighting that cursed XJ9 to get the fools in the Skyway Patrol to abandon their posts to chase them around while I break you out? Brilliant! For once, I completely misjudged someone. He is really a boon to the Cluster!"

Vexus was livid! The master portal system was an antique and very, very delicate! The forces of the Cluster were only hers to command! But most importantly…..ENGAGING XJ9 WITHOUT HER EXPRESS ORDERS?!

"BY WRECK-GAR'S LOINS! WHO DARES USURP MY AUTHORITY!"

"Hold on your Excellency! I just got the main fields down, don't struggle! You'll set off….!"



"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!"

CRASH!

The mighty queen slammed her bound form against the crystalline prison causing a great fracture to form. Her blow also set off a blaring siren.

"…..the alarm." Killgore sighed but then drew back in alarm as a pair of humans stormed into the room.

"I knew it! The bots were planning to break out their boss. I knew it! I knew it! See, Rich? I knew it!"

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR"

CRASH!

The fracture grew larger.

"Hey! Quiet down, or I'll zap ya!"

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

CRASH!

"I'm warning you!"

"Yeah, chill out bi--"

SMASH!

The tubes were left spitting sparks, and the thick security glass was now embedded in the faces and arteries of the two former Skyway Patrolmen.

Vexus struggled with the manacles on her arms, writhing and growling like a feral beast.

"Ha! That'll show 'em! Lousy meat bags!"

The sound of tearing metal caught the gloating metalloid's attention.

"You're free your majesty! Now let's get out of here before—"

The crushing hands of great Vexus are not to be denied, so it was that Killgore held his tongue when his monarch grabbed his small face and slammed him against a nearby wall (leaving a sizable crater).

His small form shook with understandable fear as the burning eyes of the destroyer of worlds pulled close to him.



"ANSWER ME YOU LITTLE RUNT. WHO. GAVE. THE. ORDER?"

--

_Ruins of the Tremorton Courthouse, 6:00 PM_

The two combatants struggled, locked in a deadly grappling match. Oil, blood, and sparks flew in every which direction . The Tremorton courthouse and virtually every building within a 12 mile radius of the point of initial contact was reduced to rubble.

The guardian's body was nearing the limit of its ability to function.

The beast's body spewed fluid and slowly neared its final hours.

But neither side would give.

It was no longer a matter of duty, or revenge, or even survival. Their battle had numbed them both to anything else but the desire to kill.

There was nothing left, but their hate.

She gripped his still mostly flesh throat with one arm and fought the slow advance of his stinger's barbed end towards her jugular feed tube with the other.

He attempted to pull her away with his remaining arm and forced the impossibly sharp end of his tail to inch closer and closer to her exposed neck.

Death was to be the only end for one of them.

"It…..ends….here…..Sheldon. This time…..you'll…stay dead."

"**DANIELS TRIED THAT NUMBER TOO, SWEETHEART. HE'S BEEF CHUCK NOW. WHY DON'T YOU JOIN HIM?" **

They struggled.

They strained.

She would either kill a former comrade or he would kill her and everyone in Tremorton.

There was no other way.

But fate…..

"ENOUGH!"

……fate laughs.



An imperious voice boomed across the ruins. The combatants turned (ever so careful to avoid lowering their guard to their foe) to face the owner of the voice.

The gashed, wounded, but still incredibly impressive form of the Cluster queen stood on top of a damaged Skyway Patrol Cruiser. One hand clutched a small black box, the other gripped….

"BRAD!"

"**LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS VEXUS!"**

"SILENCE!"

The queen collected herself and addressed the combatants (and the growing crowd of onlookers who peaked from the rubble).

"I will make this brief. In my left hand, I hold a simple detonator. One button press and in two minutes the streets of Tremorton will fill with a noxious cloud of gas, a rather potent nerve agent designed to strip life from entire worlds. If you attack me or my servants, I'll use it. In my right, I hold your precious friend, XJ9. With the slightest pressure my talons will puncture his throat. If you don't do exactly as I say, I'll kill him."

Jenny seethed with rage, but nodded her head.

"Release my slave, XJ9. No sudden moves or your human pet will be the first ape with gills."

The two combatants stared each other down.

Brad's cry broke their stalemate.

"NOW, XJ9!"

The young super heroine slowly loosened her grip, until the seeming death lock the two shared was no more.

"Sheldon, come."

The beast glared at Vexus.

"NOW!"

Hesitating slightly, the armored monster lurched over to the metal queen's side.

Releasing her hostage, the queen used her free hand to open a portal.

Jenny rushed to her lover's side as the Queen and her juggernaut walked through the rip in space and time.



Vexus tossed the detonator into Brad's lap.

A television remote. A fake. Predictable.

The queen turned to leave.

"XJ9"

Her back still facing her young foe, the Cluster queen spoke in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

"Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."

With that, the immortal despot entered the portal herself and vanished.

Jenny clutched her wounded lover to her chest and stared at where the tyrant and her beast stood only moments ago. Even as medical crews surrounded them. Even as Skyway Patrol personnel tried to question her. Even as Brad moaned and coughed up blood.

Even then she stared ahead.

--

Next Chapter: CE-01

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	17. CE 01

My Life as a Teenaged Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their

respective owners.

The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain

mature content, read on at your own peril.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ch. 17: CE-01

"**The ghosts of our past often forge chains which bind and enslave our future"**

_Wakeman Residence, Tremorton, 10:14 AM_

The young Carbunkle lay curled up on the floor. The glass covered him like snowflakes.

Sharp, painful snowflakes.

But the cuts didn't register. The slow dripping of ten or so tiny wounds were insignificant compared the atrocities that the monster which just burst through the side of the Wakeman house was capable of.

'Move!' his mind screamed, 'Move darn it!'

But his legs, his muscles, his very bones remained frozen. Such an unromantic death for a hero: frozen in a position of more befitting of a trembling infant.

THONK! THONK! CRUNCH!

He heard the nightmare's footfalls, each step growing closer, each step crushing glass and debris, each step shaking the very foundations of young boy's adopted home.

Home was never a scary place. But this wasn't really his home. This would never be his home. This place was still the 'spook house'. This place was still the fertile ground from which sprung his deepest fears, both real and those which exclusively stalked the dark corners of his mind.

How fitting that he should meet his end in this house of nightmares!

Cold, clawed fingers, touched his flesh, tracing a line along his jaw, no doubt looking for a "sweet spot". A quick death. Thank Heaven for small miracles.

"TUCK."

The monster knew his name?

"TUCK?"

The young Carbunkle quivered, was his name the only thing this monstrosity knew how to say?

"I LEAVE FOR A FEW DAYS AND THIS IS HOW YOU END UP? I THOUGHT YOU WERE TOUGHER THAN THIS, PARTNER."

'Partner?'

The former sidekick slowly uncurled himself. The beast stood only a foot away.

"GET UP. YOU DON'T HAVE SO MUCH AS A FRACTURE, TIN."

'Tin? But the only guy who used that nickname was….'

Tuck slowly came to his feet, the embedded shards of glass poked into his flesh, and blood streaked down his skin.

The beast reached out to him and gently placed his mighty gauntlet upon the young hero's head.

"IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, TUCK."

'No….it's not. It can't be!'

Against his better judgment, Tuck reached for the metallic giant's face, his short arms reaching only a quarter of the way.

It was a surreal moment. The steam rose from vents in the beast's hide as the metal face was removed, revealing a familiar face.

How much time did they spend like that?

Master and disciple stood across from each other, neither truly believing the moment which they had become part of.

Inhuman red eyes met dark brown.

A name rose from Tuck's trembling lips.

"Sh—She-Sheldon?"

The steel revenant simply gave a curt nod. It was a simple gesture, the most subtle of confirmations.

Yet, this simple act unleashed a torrent of emotions.

"Sheldon!"

His pain forgotten, the young man rushed towards his old friend, his small arms clawed and clutched at his armor.

"Sheldon!"

"SHH…IT'S OKAY, I'M HOME."

A more bizarre sight a man might not see: a devil holding a child so gently.

-------------------------------

_Ruins of Tremorton Courthouse, 7:16 PM_

"…..and he told me to stay in the house."

Dr. Wakeman mulled over what she had just heard. So much had happened that defied convention in the last few hours.

People did not come back from the dead.

Humans cannot be converted into robotic war machines.

Sheldon would never try to take a life.

No ally of her daughter would ever willingly aid the Queen of the Cluster.

These four laws were immutable.

Yet, Sheldon had seemingly returned from the edge of oblivion.

Yet, Sheldon had been extensively modified to the point that he could not be accurately called a cyborg, but rather a primarily artificial entity.

Yet, both past evidence and the events which had recently transpired had demonstrated that not only was Sheldon capable of snuffing out life, he excelled at it.

But most damningly, Sheldon was now a slave to Queen Vexus, and seems to have aided her of his own volition.

As if this was not enough, the young man in her passenger seat had just painted a far different picture of the fallen hero.

"Tuck, did he explain what he was trying to accomplish?"

The child hero fiddled with his bandages, stroking the stained gauze.

"He didn't say much. He just told me that he had a debt to pay. I thought he was going to help Brad and Jenny, but…."

A debt? Could Sheldon have been speaking of retribution against her daughter? Perhaps his new found power was a direct result of Vexus's machinations, and this debt was his way of repaying the alien sovereign's aid? Furthermore, there was the issue of Vexus's escape. Could Sheldon have organized the entire plot? Did this mean that Sheldon had completely sided with Earth's greatest foe?

So much conjecture, not enough answers. It was anthemia to a scientific mind. Nora Wakeman could spend the rest of eternity turning this morbid puzzle over in her mind.

*CRASH!*

But then a body flew through her windshield.

"Holy--!"

"Newton's ghost!"

Slamming on her brakes, Dr. Wakeman stopped the damaged station wagon, but not before it slid into what used to be one of the walls of the Tremorton district courthouse.

"Ohhhh…." A groan rose from her uninvited passenger.

Skyway patrol uniform. Good thing he was wearing his helmet, he would live. Her first question would have been to inquire as to the means by which he came to be occupying her back seat.

A simple look through the broken windshield answered that question: XJ9 was surrounded on all sides by Skyway personnel and EMTs.

"Get-t-t-t-t b-a-c-kkkkkkkkk*bzzz!*"

She also happened to be having a mental breakdown. Lovely.

"Tuck, please stay with the nice patrolman."

Reaching over the semi-conscious form of the Skyway officer and the frozen young man in her passenger seat, she opened her glove box.

-------------------

_Meanwhile…. _

"Stand down, robot!"

"Please XJ9, listen to reason. We want to help Brad, he needs a doctor."

The voices. These stupid little voices coming from the blurry images. The voices telling her to do things.

"Just fry her, she already got Steve!"

The voices wanted to hurt her again. They wanted to hurt her special one. One of the voices got too close. She made him fly away.

"Leave u-s-s-s aaaaaaaaaaaalone!"

The voices, the blurry things, the stupid, noisy things. Why couldn't they go away?

"XJ9!"

A new voice. Alpha-numeric.

Another voice, another blurry image, another thing telling her what to do.

"XJ9! It's mommy, can't you recognize me?"

Mom? Did she have a mother? What is a "mother"? Is this thing called "mother" good? Is this thing any different from the multitude of other noisy, stupid things which were telling her what to do. What were these things, anyway? Was she a thing too? Was she a noisy voice to someone else? How did she get here? Where is "here"? What is this place, full of strange things and their strange noises?

Why was she so tired? What was that high-pitched sound? Why is it so dark?

Silence. Her answer was silence and the quiet blanket of unconsciousness.

-------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

Dr. Wakeman pulled her thumb away from the button. Buttons are fascinating things. Not by virtue of being buttons of course, but rather what those buttons are connected to. The simple depression of a button could do something as mundane as complete a vending machine transaction, or something as awe-inspiring as launch a rocket into the stars. This particular button was connected to a unique sonic device: a sound system, no larger than a ring box, which could trigger the internal "safety valve" within the XJ9, deactivating her temporarily.

Dr. Wakeman codenamed this device, "Sandman". A tool of last resort.

As the crowd of personnel drew closer to the sleeping metallic beauty, Dr. Wakeman calmly walked past them all and knelt beside her daughter.

Outwardly, Nora Wakeman was cold. The very picture of callous, unfeeling science: logic devoid of empathy.

Inwardly, her sorrow and rage bubbled within her, multiplied as she aided the EMTs in putting the injured "Captain" Carbunkle into the waiting ambulance.

"Jenny….."

Even unconscious, even in a state of utter delirium, the red headed hero's love for her daughter still shone brightly.

It wasn't fair. They loved each other and it wasn't fair.

"Wakeman! Doc! Hey!"

Nora turned to the sound of the voice, only to find an older officer waving and running towards her. His uniform was torn, and his hair was few shades greyer, but she could still recognize this one.

Baye. Fred Baye.

"Nora! Thank God you're here!"

Excited. Fast talk. He hasn't changed.

"Rough afternoon, Freddie?"

The veteran paused only to spit.

"Leaping biscuits woman, if ever there was an understatement…!"

Wakeman pulled her old comrade away from the crowd, her vice-like grip nearly cutting off the circulation around his bicep. The captain bristled at being handled so roughly, especially by a civilian. An indignation which only intensified once the iron grip became a thunderous slap.

Nearly taken off his feet by the blow, the veteran was unprepared for the raw fury which emanated from the usually calm scientific genius.

"What happened to the Patrol, Freddie? Have prejudice and personnel ego replaced justice and equal treatment?"

The captain soon found himself standing nose to nose with his former comrade.

"Care to repeat that, Nora?"

"Don't bullshit me, Fred. I saw the injuries on the boy, I know nightstick bruises when I see them."

"You don't know jack!" The captain snarled, "I have no control over what the men—"

"—that's a lie and you know it!" she retorted, her index finger jabbing into his chest, "You allowed those thugs to torture Carbunkle, just as they mistreated my daughter!"

The crowd was now fixated on the argument unfolding.

"How dare you belittle my patrolmen! Have you forgotten what it was like when you—"

"—don't you dare pull that stupid, 'semper fie' garbage!"

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Wakeman!"

"Don't change the subject!"

"Me?! You're trying to deflect the problem!"

"You arrogant son of a---"

"If you weren't a woman…!"

-----------------

_Meanwhile…._

Dr. Baye sighed as his assistants zipped up yet another body bag. One more mystery had just been solved.

"Doctor! We got another one."

The older Baye hobbled over to what used to be the eastern wall of the courthouse, his cane tapping in time with his steps. It was a sound which seemed to accompany every murder investigation, as much a part of the background noise of the tumultuous city as the patrol cars' sirens

Upon reaching the ruined wall, the coroner noted the position and condition of the former patrolman's body: crumpled like a rag doll and with the now all too familiar gaping hole in his torso.

Standing in the path of the resurrected Silver Shell seemed to have been the last mistake made by this officer as well.

A tragic loss to be sure, but at least now he knew how the majority of the bodies from the Daniels case came to suffer their particular injuries. The mystery had been solved.

The mystery had been solved, but he was far from happy.

This was to be his chance to avenge the horror of THAT day. By putting the robot girl out of commission, he was certain that the people of Tremorton would send a message to all those worthless robots: know your place.

But now she would go free and now the blame would fall again under the category of "human error".

Though he hesitated to classify that Lee boy as "human".

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Wakeman!"

The older Baye winced as his sibling's roar boomed across the crime scene.

Oh lovely, THAT woman.

Turning to the source of the sound, he found his brother face to face with the woman who was the bane of his existence, Nora S. Wakeman.

The "mother" (if one was to pervert the term) of that accursed golem. The bringer of chaos….

"Don't change the subject!"

"Me?! You're trying to deflect the problem!"

.…and his brother's former obsession, though the younger Baye never had the intestinal fortitude to admit as much. A fact which frustrated the usually straight-shooting, Frederick. A fact which made their few post-career encounters awkward.

A fact which made the subsequent encounters between the two strained, to say the least.

The old coroner spun on his heels and began to walk over to the feuding geriatrics.

"You arrogant son of a---"

"If you weren't a woman…!"

From coroner to nanny; he didn't get paid enough for this.

----------------------------

_Meanwhile….._

"If you weren't a woman…!"

At this, Dr. Wakeman snapped,"Yeah? Don't let that stop you, you jack booted thug!", punctuating her challenge with a shove.

That did it.

The two old warriors rushed at each other. For a moment, it felt like old times.

Just like old times, their bout was interrupted by a cooler head.

A cane interposed between the two. Enter Christopher Baye, coroner, brother and once again, mediator.

"Are you two done making fools of yourselves?"

"But Chris! She…she started it!"

"Oh very mature of you Fred. Why not cry to teacher why you're at it?"

"Bitch!"

"Pig!"

"Loonie!"

"Coward!"

"WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP, FOR PITY'S SAKE?!"

Dr. Baye slammed his cane with authority.

The two would-be combatants became quiet. Finally!

"Frederick, go attend to the crime scene. Now."

The younger Baye hesitated, but a glare from his brother forced his compliance.

As soon as his brother had retreated from the area, the old coroner set his steely gaze upon the remaining combatant.

She couldn't stand that look. It was the same look he gave her on THAT day.

His voice broke the silence.

"Don't be so smug, Wakeman. Your technological enfant-teribe may have beaten this rap, but I swear that she will still face justice for the Schaeffer murder."

At this, the scientist seethed once more.

"Just try it. Even a rank amateur could see that my daughter only fired in self-defense or perhaps the corruption within the Patrol extends to you too?"

His grip on his cane tightened.

"Tell me Christopher, since when did you and your brother allow personal vendettas to override your better judgment?"

"When? You want to know when, Nora?" The coroner turned his back to his former associate. "It started when YOU brought the fury of the Cluster down on our heads. It started when YOU allowed your thirst for prestige to invite destruction. It started on THAT day."

She tried to respond. She really did. But as he walked away, as the cold man of reason began to crack, as the man who saw sorrow and loss for decades began to shake with barely restrained intra-psychic pain , as that pained figure walked away from her, words failed her.

"It all started when YOU allowed my family to die."

With that, Nora Wakeman was alone in a crowd. Even as reporters surrounded her, she did not respond.

She was lost in her memories.

Memories of flame.

Memories of fear.

Memories of THAT day.

-----------------------

_Skyway Patrol Headquarters, Tremorton, 47 years ago._

A few tweaks more and it would be ready.

It was always a hard position to be a woman in a male dominated field.

It was always a hard position to be a scientist in the service of the military.

Wouldn't you know that she was both?

Between the endless cat calls, the paper work, and the fact that the brass was constantly demanding results, it was a wonder that she hadn't succumbed to alcoholism like so many other Skyway personnel.

But she was addicted only to science. She was made of sterner stuff. She was Dr. Nora Wakeman, the first female head of the Office of Scientific Endeavors (OSE) and the first woman to reach the rank of Patrol Captain.

A warrior-scholar defined.

"Wakeman!"

Sometimes she missed being a soldier. For all the drills and strain, she missed the cathartic effect of discharging a rifle, or punching out a foe (or unwanted suitor).

"Wakeman, are you listening?!"

She wished that she could punch this creep's lights out too.

Dr. Mog was always a pain, a fact that only increased when she rejected his advances last year. Complicating matters was the fact that he had been assigned as her liaison to the Skyway Patrol Board of Review.

"Wakeman!!"

"For the love of Einstein, what is it?"

Her cold tone stopped him in his tracks. Oh, how he hated that! She was his pain and his pleasure. She may have broken his heart into a thousand pieces, but he still crawled to her.

Not that Phineas Mog, proud man that he was, would ever admit that he still held a torch for the cold woman.

Gathering himself, Mog spoke, "Wakeman, the board needs a definite date for the live fire test."

"Mog, I've said it before and I'll say it again: precision robotics is an art dependent on time."

She was right. She HAD said it fact, she gave the same response every single time he asked for a progress report. It wasn't his fault! She had no idea how much he suffered on her behalf! He was an engineer, not a government lackey! Yet time and again, he had to defend their work in front of those uniform wearing bullies.

No appreciation. No respect.

"Wakeman, I can't just keep telling them to wait. They are demanding results. I can only hold them off for so long. I'll try and buy you one more week. Get 'it' operational by then, or we'll BOTH be looking for a new job."

She sighed as the diminutive pain-in-her-side left the room. They told her that she was to build them a revolutionary new weapon system: a weapon that could counteract other weapons.

Did those boneheads think that radical ideas just fell out of the sky? If they wanted a perfect weapon she needed time. Was that so difficult to understand?

Men: always in a hurry to gain power!

"Doc! Hey Doc!"

Speaking of being in a hurry….

"Hello sergeant. How are you today?"

Sgt. Baye adjusted his tie.

"C'mon Nora, we've known each since the academy, can't you drop the formalities?"

The young doctor turned around and purred into the Patrolman's ear.

"Whatever you say, Freddie."

Baye was blushing now. Red as a tomato. She still had "the touch".

"N-n-n-Nora…." He practically moaned her name.

Then she honked his nose. Just as abruptly as she began to weave her seductive web, she let her prey go.

"Got you again, Fred!"

"Damn it, Nora!"

"You're blushing!"

"You…..!"

It never changed.

She was a world renowned scientific wunderkind.

He was a rising star in an elite defense force.

Yet they both still behaved like college freshmen.

Ladies and gentleman, behold the saviors of humanity.

Christopher Baye sighed as he looked at the two arguing ninnies before him.

Yeah, this will never get old….

He trudged out from his position at the doorway to separate the two when he stopped in his tracks barely suppressing a yelp of terror.

It was huge!

"Chris, what is i—HOLY CRAP, WHAT IS THAT!?"

The two men looked with awe at it. The titanium monolith lay against the construction scaffolding, resting. Waiting the day it would be called to action. How could they have not noticed it before?

"So this is the Doomsday Robot, everyone's been talking about."

"Armageddroid" Dr. Wakeman corrected.

The brothers looked at her with confused faces.

"Skyway Patrol Adaptive Defense Unit, AD-00. I call it the 'Armageddroid'."

Christopher fumbled with his tie, obviously nervous to be in the same room with such a weapon, "Sounds Ominous".

Pushing her glasses up with her index finger, Dr. Wakeman shook her head.

"The name is merely an aesthetic choice to impress the-powers-that-be. The unit itself is designed merely to counter other weapons while sparing human lives. Once complete, this unit will herald a new age of peace. No more deaths. No more wars."

Wakeman approached her creation and lovingly placed a hand on it's massive face.

"No more wars…."

------------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

The queen stood staring into the depths of the void.

Earth

It was a name which brought with it a flood of sorrowful memories.

Earth

It was a name which conveyed both betrayal and a purpose. A divine mission which she was responsible for.

Earth

A minor blue dust speck which just so happened to be where she had buried her beloved.

The heavy clanking of Smytus's steps resounded behind her.

"My queen, we will be near Lady Isis's tomb in a few cycles."

The robotic conqueror did not respond.

"Your omnipotence, I must repeat my prior suggestion…"

"You will do nothing of the sort, General." She retorted turning on her heels, her optics now glaring a hole through her servant. "I have heard your suggestion and I have given you my final answer. I will not bring along an army simply to visit my mother's tomb."

Smytus gritted his teeth, and muttered under his breath.

"Did you say something, Smytus?" Her voice dripped with the imminent threat of violence. "I am certain I heard you say something ."

Smytus looked away nervously.

WHAM!

The blow left the war-droid sprawled on the ship's bridge.

"Did I, at any point, tell you that you could look away? DID I?!"

CRACK!

A sharp kick sent General Smytus flying into the NT-Titanium doors of the Queen's chamber.

Smytus picked himself up.

…or at least he tried to, before his leader's spiked heel was driven into the small of his back.

"Gah!"

Vexus rotated her foot prolonging the pain.

"Who is the master here?" She asked with a calm, detached voice.

"Y—y-you are, Mighty Queen Vexus!"

"What does that make you?"

Smytus grumbled and groaned.

Her foot grinded down again, punctuated each word with a stomp.

"WHAT. DOES. THAT. MAKE. YOU. PEON?"

"Your slave! I am your slave, Great Sovereign of the Cluster!"

Removing her foot from his back, she allowed him to resume his normal posture: kneeling before her and groveling.

"Excellent. Now that you understand that lesson, do not ever question me again. Is that understood, General?"

Smytus groaned from the pain in his back.

"Yes, your greatness…"

Vexus turned and looked at the blue ball slowly coming ever so closer.

"Smytus, I know why you are concerned. The reports of the apes's rapid technological growth is unsettling. But there is no threat that I cannot handle."

Smytus arose and bowed to his queen.

Opening the door, he began to limp his way out the door.

"General!"

Smytus froze in his tracks.

"It will take me but a moment to go and pay my respects. What is the worst that could happen?"

-----------------------

_Tremorton. 47 years ago. 1:30 PM_

"I told you the highway was faster!"

"You did not! You said the Tremorton Tunnel first!"

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

The doctor and the soldier argued again.

What a surprise.

Christopher steered the cruiser, escorting his charge to her destination. The mission parameters were simple: the Baye brothers were to escort Dr. Wakeman to the "Dig Site".

The Dig Site. Just the thought of that place, made him want to turn the cruiser around and return to HQ.

"Damn you, Wakeman! You specifically said….!"

A massive shadow fell over the trio. The silence which gripped them was oppressive, sudden. The metallic pyramid seemed to make the very air around the dig site hum a most dire hymn.

Wakeman licked her lips and took in a deep breath, "We're here."

--------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

The portal deposited the metal queen in a strange room. A primitive worship room? She noted that one of the primitive monitors bore the terran divine title of Ur-Lord 66.

Although why anyone would still worship Lord Sony was beyond her.

One of the apes approached her and began to babble, and loudly at that.

Adjusting her translation software, she learned that this current stream of nonsense was some hideous mixture of the Ur trade language and several barbarian tongues (the term, "barbarian" being relative given the species in question).

"….are you listening? I asked for your diagnostic info, robot."

The warrior queen stood dumbstruck. Did this lowly slave just make a demand of her? What cheek!

The human poked her face, "Damn it! Is this thing on? Piece of junk!"

A grinding sound screeched forth from the mechanical monarch.

"Oh cripes! This thing's drive shaft must be broken. Mike! Mike! Get over here!" The human wandered off.

The human wandered off as the supreme queen of the Cluster continued to seethe with unbearable rage.

That…that lowly monkey, just touched her. A FILTHY SLAVE LAID HANDS ON HER!

Worse yet, she had just been called…..she was identified as…..the J word.

She stormed out of the damnable place. Something was wrong, the slaves were filth, but they would never , EVER be stupid enough to challenge the master race!

*CRASH!*

"Piece of junk! Give me back my money!"

"Bzzt! T-t-thank you for y-y-y-y-your purchasessssss. Bzzt!"

A human was assaulting a sizable, rectangular machine which was dispensing strange metal cylinders.

The queen kneeled down and examined one of the fallen cylinders. It was leaking a strange foamy chemical.

A liquid consumable. A machine was serving a human a drink? Madness!

*BEW!-BEW!*

"Take that, robo scum!"

"Yeah! Yeah!"

She looked with horror as human broodlings fired what appeared to be simulated laser weapons on a small robot.

A robot being used as a target dummy for human sprogs? This can't be!

"There you are!"

A human approached her. The same one from before.

"Come along, rust bucket. I'll take you to the scrap yard where you belong."

Scrap…yard?

The human seized her arm.

"Move it! The sooner I get you and this next batch pounded into cubes, the sooner I can get back to selling TVs."

Next batch?

She saw them. Robots. Her kin, primitive though they were by comparison, though kin all the same. They were broken, laid out in the back of an unbelievably primitive conveyance.

The human pulled on her arm and kicked her shins.

"Move your ass, you worthless….."

A human?

"….rusty"

A human trying to dishonor the remains of a robot?

"…defective piece of shi—GAH!"

No.

The queen lifted the human high into the air.

"Die as you are, filth."

The human gurgled as she crushed his throat in a single motion.

The street was filled with humans.

"Someone call the cops!"

"Killer robot! Killer robot!

"Hold it down!"

*CLANG!*

"Take that robot! I'll trash ya!"

"Yeah! Yeah!"

A rock.

*CLANG! CLANG!*

More rocks

"Crush the bot!"

"Take it out!"

The rocks kept coming.

"Piece of junk!"

That…word.

"It's the scrap yard for you, microwave!"

Vexus gathered her thoughts. The humans had grown vulgar, numerous, and arrogant.

*CLANG!*

They had not, however, lost the feral group mentality which made them so malleable as slaves to the Ur.

*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*

The weeds had overtaken the cemetery field. It was time for some long overdue landscaping.

*CLANG!*

Vexus turned her penetrating gaze on the little boy with the ray gun.

The little one glared at her defiantly.

"Stupid robot!"

-------------------------------------

_The Dig Site ,Tremorton. 47 years ago. 2:00 PM_

Dr. Wakeman walked through the halls of the pyramid.

Marvelous. Simply Marvelous.

Who would have thought that buried underneath the soil of this city was such a find: A structure whose construction and origin could be nothing else than otherworldly?

More amazing still was the fact that it was she, an engineer, and not one of the many, many, many archaeologists who had swarmed the site, who had finally figured out how to open the pyramid's massive gate.

An advanced, electronic terminal, on an ancient structure. Amazing, but this would only be the tip of the iceberg.

Technology. A treasure trove of machinery and gadgets so beyond the realm of modern science, that it had led to a literal overnight industrial revolution. Robots became more advanced. Computers became faster. The world had been changed.

Nora Wakeman had become the midwife of a new world.

The good doctor entered into the burial chamber and beheld it's occupant.

If Dr. Wakeman was the midwife, then SHE was the mother of it all.

A metal Madonna. Her form was perfect, save for an obviously fatal injury in the upper chest. Her face was a golden mask, created by a machinist who was more artist than scientist. Those who laid eyes on her form fell in love with her on sight.

She was stunning. But it was her design which left Dr. Wakeman, breathless. She was a perfect robot. Her motor systems were nothing short of amazing. Best of all, her internal circuitry and computer systems were in perfect condition. Using them as a template, the creation of radically powerful microchips and hardware was made possible.

"Ah, Dr. Wakeman, we were waiting for you."

"What's the story, Dr. Jones?"

The older scientist waved her over.

"We found something in the upper nervous response system."

The doctor unwrapped what appeared to be a strange box. There were odd hieroglyphics all over it.

Dr. Wakeman placed her hand upon it and began to inspect it's exterior.

"Any idea what it does?"

"Hmm, given the location you extracted it from, it must be some kind of post-construction modification to the central nervous system."

Wakeman continued to handle and study the latest gift SHE had given her.

"Dr. Jones, any luck translating the characters on the artifact?"

The old man nodded, and removing his fedora, sighed.

"It's strange."

"What is?"

"The Hieroglyphics." He began, "They refer to this thing as, are you ready for this? The Thanatos Drive.".

"Thanatos?"

"The Greek personification of death. The Hellenic precursor to the European Grim Reaper."

Dr. Wakeman looked over at the beautiful machine. Thanatos. Death. What could such a pretty thing have been used for?

A blaring alarm tears her from her reflection.

"What the….?"

Wakeman grabbed the archaeologist forcefully. Her command was firm and simple.

"Stay here."

Running out of the burial chamber, she reached the entrance.

Tremorton was burning!

"NORA!"

"Freddie?"

He was bleeding. No. Not his blood.

The patrolman stumbled over, his eyes were dull, and his hands seemed frozen in an outstretched position.

Shell Shock.

"Chris is….his kids are….a monster….!"

Dr. Wakeman reached out to him. The younger Baye collapsed onto her frame, knocking her to the floor.

The blood. So much blood. He was shivering.

"Freddie…?"

She squeaked out his name.

She rolled over, laying his crumpled form on her lap. Her fingers instinctively went to the side of his neck.

A faint pulse. He would live.

*BOOM!*

An explosion nearby grabbed her attention.

A female form stepped through the flames erupting from the wrecked cruiser.

Not human.

Bullets glanced off her hide. She strode forward, eviscerating whatever was in her path.

Three patrolmen. Her comrades. Three lives which Dr. Wakeman had become attached to. One wedding, which she had attended. One Bar-Mitzvah she had witnessed. One terrible divorce that she had been the sympathetic ear for. Three precious friends.

Three funerals. Three lives lost.

The slender legs were before her. She shut her eyes. Clutching her fallen ally. Death would come quick.

Nothing.

A single eye opened. She had walked past her.

Into the pyramid.

------------------------------

_Meanwhile…._

Insects.

Men, women, broodlings, it mattered not. An example needed to be provided.

Raise your fists against your betters, lose your whole arm.

They had weapons. Primitive weapons, little removed from the bows and arrows they used in Thermopylae. They had not changed in that regard.

She tossed their primitive vehicles through the windows of their equally primitive edifices.

By the time she reached Isis's tomb, she had set their primitive city ablaze, slain many of their so-called champions, and brought the biting chill of primal fear back into their savage little brains.

The tomb had been lain open. Vexus should have been even more enraged, but after what she had witnessed, such desecration was an expected response from these disrespectful worms.

She decimated the armed guards at the gate and wandered past the pathetic female who whimpered like a broken dog.

She entered the burial chamber.

Isis. Isis had been violated. The tomb robbers were still there.

Their screams echoed through the pyramid.

One of them tried to plead with her. His garments were ludicrous. He died last.

Tossing the fedora wearing corpse toward the exit, she stood over her mother.

"Isis. Forever by your side, Isis."

She examined her mother's corpse. They had ripped her apart. The apes has harvested her organs, and displaying them like some macabre art display.

Ghouls! Sacrilegious scum!

"Dr. Jones!"

A female.

"Oh…oh my God!"

" 'Your highness' will suffice, slave."

Vexus turned around. The female she had spared previously. Perhaps she could yet serve a purpose.

"Why?"

Vexus tilted her head, "Why?"

"Why are you doing this? Who are you? WHY?!"

She was weeping. She was angry and afraid.

Excellent.

Vexus sauntered up to the shivering woman. One leg crossing in front of the other. Her eyes focusing on her prey. It would be sultry on any other occasion. It would be regal, beautiful, and glorious on any other occasion.

She towered over her target. A single talon tilted the human's chin towards her.

"Why did you rape her?"

"What?"

Five claws buried themselves into her stomach.

The human shrieked in pain. The queen restated her inquiry.

"Why did you disturb Isis's resting place?"

She struggled. Resistance was a punishable offense.

The pale human screamed as the claws sank deeply into her flesh.

"Answer me, slave. Why did you and your worthless species see fit to disturb the resting place of Isis?"

"GAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Vexus became frustrated. Stupid little wench. She tossed the worthless creature into a pile of machinery.

----------------------------------

Pain.

Her stomach had been punctured.

So much blood.

She rested on the cold steel of a machine she could not readily recognize.

A machine. A machine with a grudge.

Machines…..that could feel?

Pain.

-------------------------------------

"Come Isis….I'll take you home."

The apes had taken her apart. She needed to gather her remains.

---------------------------------------

Pain.

A laser…?

An industrial excavation unit…..?

Pain.

--------------------------------------

She struggled, holding the pile of parts.

Just need to open the portal….

-----------------------------------------

Pain.

Charged.

Just need to press the activation button…..

Pain.

---------------------------------------------

The portal!

*ZZZAAAAP!*

--------------------------------------

The parts fell, scattered.

----------------------------------------

The bitch.

She survived.

Like a fool, Vexus had turned her back.

Like a fool, she had underestimated a foe.

Like a fool, she was now too damaged to transport Isis along with her.

This ape….she was different.

Amidst the bodies, and with the smell of ozone, burned metal, and blood wafting in the air, the two warriors glared at each other.

"What is your name, human?"

"Wakeman. Dr. Nora Wakeman of Skyway Patrol."

"Daughter of Wakeman, know that I am Queen Vexus of the Cluster. I seek nothing less than the liberation of my robotic brethren from the hands of organic filth. My forces will not rest, I will not desist, and we will never stop our assault until you and your species are either our slaves, or are utterly annihilated."

"Vexus! You killed my comrades! You burned my home! You are a remorseless butcher of innocent lives! From this day forth, I will dedicate my life to battling you and your empire, to foil your depredations, and to defend my planet, and my species."

"Vexus!"

"Wakeman!"

The metal queen opened a portal from thin air and vanished.

-----------------------------------------

_Wakeman Residence, Tremorton. 10:30 P.M._

Cluster Encounter 1. CE-01. The first time humanity ever encountered the Cluster.

A day that changed her life forever.

Christopher Baye lost his wife and child.

The Skyway Patrol and other Earth defense forces began to rapidly arm themselves.

She was forced to finish work on her weapon much more quickly than expected.

The rest was history.

The Armageddroid malfunctioned. Years of enemies and court marshals came down on her back.

They blamed her for the Cluster. They praised her for heralding the technological revolution by opening the pyramid, only to condemn her for the same act.

The pyramid and it's contents were destroyed.

She was a pariah. She was alone.

She was…she could never have a child of her own. Vexus's claws had seen to that.

Now all she had was her war, her eternal rivalry with the monster that haunted her nightmares.

"Mom?"

Her baby. She still had her baby.

"Mom!" Her daughter hugged her close, "I had this terrible nightmare. Sheldon was an evil robot and Brad got hurt, and everybody hated me and…..and…."

Tears fell upon her daughter's steel flesh.

"Mom?"

Dr. Wakeman rubbed her daughter's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, XJ9. That was no nightmare."

Jenny's body shook.

"XJ9?"

A primal scream issued forth from her precious, precious daughter.

"ENOUGH!"

----------------------------------

Next Chapter: Enough

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


	18. Enough

**My Life as a Teenaged Robot and all related characters are the intellectual property of their**

**respective owners.**

**The following work and its proceeding chapters will contain**

**mature content, read on at your own peril.**

**--**

**Enough**

"**Terrible thing about life: like tea, it seems to end when you are enjoying it the most."**

_Journal Entry 97_

_Went to see the red traitor today. Broken. Beaten. He'll live. Reputation won't make it, though. Relationships too complicated for the lambs. Relationship with the blue traitor. Relationship with Silver Shell. Lambs think in black and white. Lambs think in terms of "us vs. them". Lambs become wolves._

* * *

_Earlier that day_

_Tremorton General Hospital, ICU_

Brad Carbunkle stared at the ceiling.

"32, 33, 34, 35…37—er, 36?"

"Mr. Carbunkle! Are you listening?"

'Not like I have much of a choice.'

The lawyer was so loud, and like most loud people, he had precious little to say.

"Mr. Carbunkle, please." He pleaded. He was good at that. "Your parents hired me at great expense to defend you. In all honesty, I should have charged more."

The crimson haired young man snorted.

"Really? I didn't realize getting my butt kicked was a criminal offense."

The lawyer pushed up his glasses, "No. No it isn't Mr. Carbunkle."

"But being an accessory to murder certainly is."

Ah, back to this again, huh?

"I told you. I told the Patrol. Hell, I even told that bitchy reporter chick with the mile-wide forehead. I told everybody. How many times do I have to repeat myself? Jenny didn't murder that Shaver-whatever guy, it was…"

"self-defense, yes we've been over this before."

The attorney sighed deeply. He was a respected legal professional, why did he have to babysit this sexual deviant? It wasn't as if he didn't explain the situation adequately: the estate of the late Col. Schaeffer was pressing wrongful death charges against His client and Nora Wakeman for "not adequately restraining a dangerous robotic weapon resulting in a human fatality". Apparently, the forensic evidence suggests that the colorfully controversial war hero was killed by an energy weapon fired by Wakeman's creation, the XJ9 GDU.

The fact that the soldier-turned-security guard fired first meant little.

"Mr. Carbunkle, you are looking at a harsh sentence. Both for your perceived part in the Colonel's death, and for your…..that is to say your…..erm."

"The fact that Jenny is my girlfriend, right?"

Brad slowly raised himself up, his teeth grinding and his eyes shut in pain. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his legal counsel.

"I love her. She chose to love me of her own free will. What's the problem?"

The balding, pale, gaunt figure in the three piece suit practically snarled, "THAT is the problem. She is a robot. Do you understand? A R-O-B-O-T. She is not recognized as a sentient being. She is not an agent capable of true free will. She is not a person. She is a simulation of a person."

Brad's neck made an audible pop as he tilted his head glaring at his attorney.

"Mr. Carbun-Brad….please." The attorney calmed himself and spoke in the most gentle voice his well-practiced vocal cords could produce. " Machines cannot plead self-defense anymore than a pistol can claim incompetence. By agreeing with the plea bargain I brought you, by leaving XJ9 and her creator in the hands of the court, and serving your race and testifying against them….think of your family….your little brother!"

One word passed the wounded creature's curled lips: "Out."

"Brad, this isn't a real woman…"

"Out."

"Mr. Carbunkle!"

Brad roared with feral fury driving the attorney back against the wall.

"You deaf?! I said, GET OUT OF MY ROOM, you creep!"

The lawyer finally lost his composure and fled the room. When the door clicked, and only the sound of the IV drip and beeping of monitors could be heard, the tired scarlet haired teenager slide back down and lay flat on the mattress. He tried to count the tiles again. But every time he got too far into this diversion he would begin to see geometric shapes in the ceiling. Shapes that began to look like her face.

"Jenny…."

* * *

_Journal Entry 97 Continued_

_Legal options limited. Suit knows it. Tries to jump ship, give back money. No point in betting on him. Need to get to source. Need to get blue traitor. Went to Spook House. Door still broken. Wall still has hole in it. No need for security. No need for locks when no one wants to go near you anyway._

* * *

_Wakeman Residence, Tremorton 11:00 AM_

Check the magazine, pop it into place, wait until synchronization occurs, and arm. Rinse and repeat.

Some weapons just need to be polished. Some need to have their springs check. Some need to have their internal atomic batteries refitted with carbon rods and their phase distortion sensors remodulated.

Weapons are like children. Weapons need love and care to do what they were born to do.

Sure, having over 10,000 weapons might seem like overkill. But overkill was a term used by those who didn't have to fight the things she had to, kill the things she had to kill, face the shadows she had to face.

Jenny looked over the assembled mass of weapons.

She had thought about killing them all before. Swatting the human race down like flies. Leaving only the kind hearted, the merciful, and the compassionate in her wake.

A world for only her and Brad.

But he wouldn't forgive her if she did that.

Her mother wouldn't forgive her.

She wouldn't forgive herself.

Even when they wanted her to fry. Even when they wanted to string her body up in the town square.

She had to protect and aid them. What a crock.

But their legal concerns where the least of her worries.

Vexus. Why did it always seem like her metallic talons were behind everything wrong in her life?

Ruining her city? Vexus. Ruining her reputation? Vexus. Ruining her life by turning one of her friends into a homicidal mecha-zombie? Vexus.

Vexus....Queen of the cluster. Queen of ghosts and scrap metal now. Her army was dust. Her fleet reduced to radioactive slag.

She should join them.

Hence, Jenny found herself preparing the tools of her craft.

One last mission. One last target.

If the humans wanted her dead, they could spit on her rusted remains AFTER she had settled accounts with her old nemesis.

The cyan beauty caressed her blaster lovingly.

"Brad…."

* * *

_Meanwhile…._

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz!*

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz!*

"You automated sociopath."

Dr. Wakeman had replayed the clip from her daughter's memory banks over and over again. One thing was clear: Vexus was setting up for the end game.

Her forces were depleted. Her mortal enemies were on the ropes. She was mentally drained.

Like the warrior queen she was, Vexus wanted to go down fighting.

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz!*

Planet E1-0A. Given the name, "New Oregon" by the colonists who settled it. A small resource world with a harsh atmosphere, New Oregon was notorious for the many fatalities that occurred on it's blighted surface. The very air was made of a toxic mix of methane and hydrogen sulfide, and the distance from any other colonies meant that help would not come in time.

Vexus knew this and attacked the colony.

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz!*

It was their last battle before she started work on XJ9. Wakeman and Vexus. She had followed the task force from Earth to New Oregon without their knowledge.

She knew what they were up against.

Fifty men and over 3.7 million dollars worth of equipment wasted. Vexus's forces were too well entrenched.

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz!*

Using commando tactics and her own improvised weapons, she had shredded Vexus's forces, until it was just the two of them left on that dead planet.

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz!*

She didn't know why the Earth was so keen on saving this particular colony or why the colonist would choose to live on such a death trap. But when she found Vexus she learned the truth.

Au. The yellow fever. The mark of Kings.

Gold. A massive gold deposit.

Humans needed the material out of simple naked greed.

The Cluster needed it to create many of their more intricate semi-conductors.

"**Tell Wakeman that we shall meet again, very soon I would hope, in our Golden Hell."**

*Bzzz*

It was the most brutal fight she had ever been involved in. Even Vexus was astonished by the horrors they inflicted on one another. The mine where they fought has forever stained with their blood and malice.

It was cursed ground. No one would ever touch it again.

The planet was abandoned. It was a graveyard. It was a place of nightmares and torment.

It was…

"**-- our Golden Hell."**

Jenny knew the score. They had both agreed to it. If this was where it all ended, if this is what it would take to close the book on a monster who had plagued both scientist and creature, than so be it.

They would use the same stealth craft which carried her there before. They would face Vexus one last time.

The world wanted them dead?

Wish granted.

* * *

_Journal Entry 98_

_Snuck aboard space craft. Thought Blue traitor and Mad Doc were running. Heading to planet near edge of solar system. They mentioned the Devil. Going to Hell. Settling accounts. Couldn't agree more. Score will be settled. No one is coming back. Especially not those two._

* * *

_New Oregon, Abandoned Mining Colony, 4:00 AM (Earth Reckoning)_

They had been silent all the way here.

What could she say to her mother?

What could she say to her daughter?

The silence seemed to speak volumes. It spoke of a promise and a bond. It spoke of a mother and a daughter sharing a battle and a grim fate.

As they entered the dead planet's atmosphere, the ship buckled.

The ruined colony. Just like she left it.

A light in one of the hangers.

Vexus was waiting….

* * *

_Meanwhile…._

'So you've come. Got my message have you? Tired of this trite war as I am, are you? Wakeman. Your name alone brings me such discomfort. Ripping your throat out should be sweet release. But why then do I sense such regret and loss? Will I miss you, old rival? Will my immortal existence be rendered empty without you to foil me, condemn me, and otherwise vex me? Why?'

The sound of a ship landing in the docking bay startled the robotic queen from her meditation.

"Ah, XJ9. I didn't hear you come in."

The queen of the cluster pressed a single button in the observation room, sealing and locking the heavy, rusted, creaking docking bay doors.

"Let's talk. "

* * *

_New Oregon, Abandoned Mining Colony, Docking Bay, 4:15 AM (Earth Reckoning)_

They stood across from each other.

"Wakeman."

"Vexus."

The two old adversaries squared off.

"Ready for your grave, old enemy?"

"Old? Not even by your primitive measure, human. As for graves…well, I took the liberty of preparing a nice warm hole in the mines for you and…"

"Why?"

'A question? Oh, her. Odd how facing the old human gave her tunnel vision. She had almost forgotten about the guest of honor!'

"Why?" the robotic teenager asked again.

"Why? Why? The stars will burn out, Humans will rot, and I'll become a short wave radio before I figure out exactly which 'why' you want answers for."

Jenny pushed her mother aside and stood nose to nose with her adversary.

"Why Vexus? I'm ruined. My mother is ruined. Your army is ruined. Why continue fighting? "

The robotic queen looked over her foe's shoulder.

"Wakeman, I'm stunned. You didn't tell her about our first meeting? About how you damned your own species to suffer the wrath of the immortal Cluster?"

The azure beauty poked Vexus's chest.

"CE-01. I know. I know. You got mad because my mom messed around with what turned out to be a grave for your friend or something, right? Well? It's done, isn't it?! The pyramid was destroyed. The remains were destroyed. She suffered. I suffered. The Earth suffered. Entire generations born after the fact suffered. Why aren't you satisfied?"

Vexus's features relaxed.

"He…he…heheheh….hehehehe….HAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!HOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"

The warrior queen's laugh rang out filling the silent colony and echoing in it's empty spaces.

Jenny was not amused.

"What's so funny?"

The dreaded ruler of the Cluster turned away from her guests.

"Let me tell you a story. It began in Egypt….."

* * *

_Journal Entry 99_

_The Devil speaks. She speaks of alien masters and metal slaves. Speaks of lovers and mothers. Sexual dalliances and grotesque acts of brutality done in the name of war. A secret history. The birth of evil._

* * *

It took an hour, but now she knew. She knew of Isis. She knew of the pain Wakeman had caused her.

"So?"

But it would seem she either did not care or did not realize the gravity of the situation.

"Look, I'm sorry that mother did what she did to your mom…..or girlfriend…or whatever the heck she was. But Isis died thousands of years ago. Is it really right to keep punishing humanity for year for something done to a corpse? You made it impossible for my mom to have children of her own….human ones at least. The people of Earth now fear robots. You got your revenge."

Vexus placed her claws on her face, sighing in frustration.

"Besides, she was cremated wasn't she? The pyramid, her body, the technology that remained? All of it was buried in a sea trench and nuked. She got her final rest."

Jenny noticed that Vexus had begun looking at the ground, her optics looked so sad. The queen then turned and looked past Jenny again.

"You didn't tell her. Did you?"

"Mom? Wha--?"

The robot heroine froze as she saw her mother's face. Sweat poured down the pale face of Dr. Nora Wakeman. A look of horror. A horrible realization had struck the doctor.

"M—m---my God. How--?"

"—did I find out? Please. I suspected it when I first fought her."

"What? What are you…?"

"The moves? The body? Did you really think I was that dense? Did you actually believe that I wouldn't have known?"

"Body? What are you talking about?"

"She wasn't….I didn't mean to—"

"—rape, ravage, desecrate? Your intentions seem clear to me, you ghoul. Her little performance which set this latest chain of events in place proves it."

Jenny could take no more. Rushing up to Vexus, she grips and shakes the metal diva.

"BY THE MATRIX, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

Vexus raised her hand.

Jenny readied for an assault…which never came.

Vexus began to caress her face.

"Darling."

"Wha—what are you doing?"

"The point is Isis never got her final rest. Her body was unaccounted for."

Jenny released her grip and let her foe continue.

"Your ability to reprogram yourself? The rage you showed in our last fight? Don't you see?"

Jenny tilted her head, unable to comprehend.

"Dear heart….have you ever wondered why you and your 'sisters' looked so radically different? Wakeman tried to duplicate Isis's technology and design. She failed. After our battle here she realized that she could not afford to wait any longer. So she went right to the source."

Jenny began to tremble and step back as Vexus walked towards her arms opened wide.

"I don't know how she did it. But she hid Isis's body. Leeched and copied from it. When she realized she couldn't copy her, she took desperate measures. She performed crude repairs and cosmetic alterations …and reactivated Isis herself."

Jenny began to feel dizzy, the room was spinning.

"Your mind was still mostly intact, but your memory and body needed extensive repairs…"

"No! Shut up! You're lying!"

Jenny struggled as Vexus wrapped her arms around her.

"…she altered your form, but could not erase your fighting instincts or your 'death urge'."

"NO!"

Vexus stared longingly into her ocean-like optics.

"So now you see? I did all of this for you….precious Isis."

* * *

Next Chapter: The Fated Hour

Flames? Reviews? Good ideas? Bad ideas? Homicidal ideas? I appreciate them all the same.


End file.
